An Undeniable Attraction to Hatred
by androgynousdouche
Summary: Moving back to South Park had been the least of preferences, but maybe a restart in the familiar town could provide more than a solemn end to high school. Creek.
1. Chapter 1 - The Return

Thank you everyone for reading! I love the reviews I'm receiving, they're fantastic, just like you guys. I've received some DM's asking about my activity; I'll be updating much more frequently now that I'm on summer break! Patience is a virtue, but I understand if you're eager ;) Anyway, feel free to review as much as you want. Thank you sweeties!

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I hated this town more than I hated myself. I wanted to barrel roll out of my parents' car when I saw the city sign whoosh by us. Might as well end it now rather than return, right?

I moved from South Park to San Francisco when I was 11 years old; almost 7 years ago. I'm not sure if I had developed such an intense, boiling hatred for this town at that age, or if I was just pissed that I was leaving my favourite place in the whole fucking world. The whole car trip I was listening to loud and angst filled music that only caused my mood to plummet even more. My thoughts returned to the day that flipped my life as easily as flipping a coin was.

When my parents announced our return to the threshold of hell I had begged and pleaded to stay in San Fran, but to no avail. It seemed almost dream like, actually nightmare-ish, to leave. I had built up so much in California; relationships, friendships, sports, school...everything. I was forced to drop it all for them. When I told my friends I was moving they were all devastated. I had been one of the most popular guys at my school of five thousand teenagers (and some 6-year students.) Almost everyone knew my name; whether it was through sports, common friendships, drugs, clubs, everyone had heard my name at one point in time. I guess I had made my name when I threw the biggest rager the school had ever seen, let alone heard of. Everything was so surreal in California. I blamed all the drugs I did mixed with the euphoria of finally being accepted into society. I had quit ostracizing myself purposely and found out that people actually liked me. Also, puberty hit me pretty well, so I was a total babe. Not gonna lie.

"Honey," my mother's voice snapped me out of my thoughts, "We're driving by your old school!"

I stared at this unknown territory. I had blocked out most of my life prior to California and I honestly couldn't recall even attending that horrendous looking elementary school.

"Cool mom." I said flatly.

"Sweetie," these pet names were so annoying since she only pulled them when I was mad, "You can't return on a sour note. You know that starting new can be fun and can be great!"

I swear, my mom knew exactly how to strike a nerve in anyone. She knew I was mad and that I would never forgive her, nor my father for that matter, for making me return.

"Mom, I fucking hate it here already." She scolded me for my language and chattered on about how starting a new school would be healthy for me. Maybe I'd make better friends.

By better she meant kids who didn't do drugs or get into my pants. Well, honestly, I got into people's pants. My parents weren't happy when I came out as bi-sexual but they were happy that I had finally opened up to them a little, especially with something they saw as important, but they didn't like how promiscuous I was. My dad always worried I was going to catch a disease while my mom worried about me getting a girl pregnant. While I wasn't all that interested in girls, I still satisfied my needs. Honestly, who would deny a blow job when they're high? No one who's smart or horny.

We pulled up to our old house. Why my parents decided to buy the exact house we moved out of baffled me. But that wasn't the biggest of my concerns.

I grabbed my backpack and rushed into my new yet old house up to my room. I looked around and immediately went to the bathroom. I needed a cigarette and to put my medication away.

I flipped my backpack upside-down and saw multiple things sprawl out. I saw a frame with a picture of my best friend and I holding red solo cups up to the camera and flicking it off. The night of the historical rager. I also saw my pill bottles spin into the sink along with some clothes, my blanket my ex had given me, and my phone. I completely forgot I had taken my phone with me. I checked it; 9 missed calls and 17 texts. I unlocked the screen and read the messages.

'I'll miss you cutie!'

'Dude, is your dealer in town?'

'Hey man, don't let this get you down. Mom said I can visit you as often as I like. Perks of having a pilot as a dad.'

'You're fucking kidding me. You didn't fucking tell me you were returning.'

I stared at the most recent text I had. Who the fuck had texted me that? Who the hell had my number from South Park?


	2. Chapter 2 - Encounters

_'Who is this?'_ I replied. Almost instantly my phone buzzed in my hand to signal a reply. I noticed that the mysterious person also had iMessage.

_'Dude, it's Kenny. Remember me? It fucking took me forever to find you're damn number.'_

I rolled my eyes at the improper usage of 'you're'. But the name Kenny was familiar and it irked me. He was the kid with the orange hoodie, right? I thought he was dead.

_'Hi. I don't really remember you, but hello, yes, I have returned to the fifth ring of hell.'_

I tossed my phone on the sink cabinet. I brushed my teeth and washed my face. I stared in the mirror at my reflection and reminisced about how I had been before I left this dreadful town. I was a twitchy freak that always worried about everything. My hair had been a nappy mess and I was unhealthily skinny. Now my hair was short on the sides with a longer top in a perfect upward swoop, my emerald eyes no longer wore huge purple rings, I was healthy, tall, and lean. My skin was the epitome of perfection, no blemish or scarring was visible. I had the dream skin of every sixteen year old girl that sported too much make-up.

_'Hang out with me. We'll catch up. I'll be at your house in 5.'_

I stared at my phone. Were people just attracted to me like fucking magnets? I never understood it, but I didn't want to pass up the option to leave my house.

"I'm going out to catch up with old friends!" I yelled down the stairs to my parents.

"Oh! See, I told you everything would be fine!" My mom beamed up at me.

"Nothing will be fine without Alex and Daniel." I said grimly. My mom's face immediately turned dark. Alex was my ex-boyfriend, also my first boyfriend and one of my closest friends (even after the break-up), and my parents hated him. Daniel was the best friend that co-stared with me in my photo frame. My mom wasn't a fan of him but she tolerated him. Her hatred for Daniel was no where near her hatred for Alex.

"You know I didn't have a preference for them, baby."

"And you knew I did. Especially Alex," I almost shouted, "Mom, fucking get over it. You've taken them both away from me, isn't that what you wanted?!" My voice had unintentionally risen. She waved her hand and me and said something about how she never wanted me upset and I was over exaggerating, but I had already raced out of the house and slammed the door.

The next thing I knew my ass had landed on the ground and my head throbbed. What the hell?

"Woah, slow down cutie. I know it's pretty exciting to re-meet me but you need to calm your dick."

"Dude, shut the fuck up. If anyone's excited, it's you." I said, helping my self up and rubbing my tailbone. That fall fucking hurt.

"Holy shit!" he shouted, "Tweek Tweak, stutter-less, hot, and aggressive. I swear if you're not gay you're going to be gay in my fantasies."

I raised a brow at him. He was being pretty friendly and open with me, despite only knowing me for the past 3 seconds. Well, at least knowing the new me.

"Gay fantasies. That's not a new topic." I laughed. Holy shit, I laughed. This was the first time I wasn't scowling in the past week.

"Oh God, this is great. You're gay too. Thank fucking God. There's too many religiously straight people in this damn town." I stared blankly at him. This wasn't entertaining. "Anyway," he smiled, "We're going to get lunch, catch up and shit."

Lunch sounded heavenly right now. I hadn't eaten the whole ride here nor had I smoked a cigarette. Which reminded me.

I anxiously grabbed my pack from my back pocket and prayed they weren't crushed. They were safe, thank God, so I fetched one and flipped my flat black zippo open, lighting the cancer stick that I was addicted to. I sucked on it heavily and took out half the cigarette in one drag. Instantly, my body relaxed and my mood switched from annoyed to relieved. I closed my eyes as we continued to walk towards our destination and thanked whatever higher power that may exist for the invention of cigarettes.

"That's what I liked to see!" Kenny slapped my back and grinned from ear to ear. He reminded me of Alex. I immediately thought of me and him kissing back in California when we were dating. Back to when we first met and clicked quicker than I had with anyone else. I thought about the dates we had gone on where we had such a natural flow and it never got awkward. No. No._ No._ Bad Tweek, no thoughts of Alex should be in my mind today. Especially when I couldn't see him in person.

I looked at the ground and noticed Kenny had also pulled out a cigarette and lit it up with a bic lighter. I fucking hated those things since I had switched to my zippo. What snapped me out of my thoughts about lighters was seeing Kenny drag down the whole cigarette in one take.

"Dude!" I shouted, "That's what _I'm_ talking about!' I high-fived him. Maybe people in South Park weren't as bad as I thought they were.

Kenny laughed and flicked the butt out into the street then grabbed another one. I noticed he smoked Marlboro Reds. Not bad. I had started with light special blends, moved to special blends, then to reds and finally settled on blacks. I loved my blacks. They were the super cancer sticks of all the cancer sticks.

We reached our destination (a chipotle, thank fucking God) and we caught up immediately. We were soon cracking jokes about the town and flinging food at each other. We accidentally got food on a lady in the booth next to us and soon had an employee walk up to us.

"Kenny, fucking quit it. My boss is pissed." A kid told us. He was vaguely familiar but I couldn't place a name to the face.

"Stan, shut the fuck up," Stan. Right. "Hey, look who returned! It's Tweek!"

Stan stared at me and shook his head, "Kenny, quit playing games. We all kn-"

"No!" Kenny exclaimed, "It's really him! Dude, I swear. It's Tweek Tweak! Hot, smart, hilarious and twitch-less!"

"That's great man, just quit flicking food at other people or I'll kick you out. Nice to see you, Tweek." Stan scurried away to a furious boss.

"Looks like someone hasn't had sex in a while," Kenny whispered, pointing to Stan. I snickered, "Hey," I got up and motioned for him to follow me, "Let's go walking around. I want to know the town before we start school in a couple weeks."

"Um," he said, "We go back to school on Monday." I stared at him with horror. No fucking way. My summer was cut three weeks short. Monday was 3 short days away. I was pissed at him.

"Woah man, I'm just the messenger," he put his hands up in the air innocently. I guess my anger had reflected in my face. He was right though, there was no point in being mad at him. I rubbed my temples and sighed heavily.

"I guess that means I only have a couple days to get fucked up. Cool."

He beamed and jumped up and down. This kid was too enthusiastic for his own good. "Hell fucking yeah, dude. You party!? You're perfect, you'll fit right in. There's actually a party tonight, don't even worry about your sexuality, no one will care." My sexuality wasn't even a problem in my eyes. I could care less if people hated me for who I liked to fuck.

"Good dude, cause I want to get really fucking drunk tonight."


	3. Chapter 3 - Introductions

I walked up the steps to a house that was filled to the brim with people. I didn't even know this many people lived around South Park, especially people my age. I ducked into the house and saw multiple things that returned me to San Francisco. Girls on table tops in only their underwear making out, guys cheering them on, people conversing over the loud music, beer pong, flip cup, people passed out on the floor with people posing with them, assumably going to upload the pictures in the morning. I thought I was at a party with Alex until I was interrupted by Kenny who shouted "I'm going to find drinks! Don't go upstairs, it's filled with gross girls. Stay down and try to socialize!" He weaved himself in between people, getting high-fives along the way. I looked around and went to the game I was incredible at: beer pong. Daniel and I had practiced playing for months prior to our rager. We would play it bored, inebriated, high, exhausted, any mood and we'd play it. We both became so good at it that we started playing with tennis balls instead of ping pong balls. That didn't last for too long because we were losing more beer than we preferred.

"You wanna play?" I looked up and saw Stan standing next to me handing me a ping pong ball. He shoved me forward and I had no option but to play. I wasn't going to back down. I refused to.

"Okay," I sighed, "But I can't promise anything good." I lied. Everyone laughed at me and soon another was placed across the table as my opponent. I was taken aback by his physical appearance. He was hot. Extremely hot.

I could practically feel my pupils dilate with desire. He was pure eye candy. Tall, midnight hair with a tint of blue (but I credited that to the lighting in the house), ultramarine eyes, a square and incredibly defined jaw, high cheek bones, curved eyebrows, an-

I felt beer splash against my shirt. The fucker started the game while I was distracted. Nice strategy.

Everyone hollered and shouted "Chug!" so, I did. I crushed the cup and threw it to the side. That caused a nice uproar from the peanut gallery and I threw my ball into the farthest center cup. The delectable piece across the table raised an eyebrow but remained stoic. The game continued without hesitation. He was a good opponent, I almost lost but I made my ball into his last cup before he could fish it out. He scrunched his nose and chugged the last of the beer. Everyone was clapping and high-fiving me and demanded to know my name.

"Tweek," I shouted at them. They all roared and repeated my name. I rolled my eyes and scanned the crowd for the lengthy opponent. I found him already on the other side of the house. I dashed over to him, with an obstacle of girls, but reached him and grabbed his arm. He spun around with agitation. Was he mad that he lost?

"Dude, awesome game!" I beamed at him. He shrugged his shoulders and started walking away. What the hell?

"Hey!" I screamed after him. He was heading towards the door like he was going to leave. Guy couldn't have a civil conversation after losing? It wasn't that big of a deal!

"Hey!" I repeated only to feel myself being yanked back. I let out a subtle yelp from the surprise attack.

"Leave him alone," Kenny said eyeing the raven haired boy that was leaving the vicinity.

"Why? I just wanted to see ho-"

"That's Craig, man. You don't mess with him." Craig? Why did that name sound so familiar? Fuck my memory for blocking out everyone.

"Well, I'm going to try to talk to him."

Kenny tried to protest but I was already headed to the door and outside in the chilled air.


	4. Chapter 4 - Pearls

It rarely got this cold in San Francisco, let alone in the middle of August. The sky was a silvery gray, almost resembling a pearl. The clouds were stretched across too their limit. Their thinness caused the grimness to be apparent.

I tucked my arms into themselves and searched for Craig. I saw him a little down the road and ran towards him. I wasn't entirely sure what was causing me to investigate who he was, but something about him struck me. I caught up to him and he stopped walking.

"Why," he sighed, "the fuck are you following me?"

I raised my arms innocently, "Man, you can't be mad at me for losing. I mean, th-"

"I'm not mad." He said bleakly. "I just got bored, so I left. But we're digressing from the point: Why are you following me?"

I stuck out my hand out as a peace offering. He stared at it, unamused, turned, and headed away from me. I was dumfounded. No one had ever been this stubborn with me after a game. I smirked and fell back into step with him. I guess his unwillingness to cooperate ignited my curiosity. I reached into my pocket and grabbed a cigarette. He quickly glanced at me then returned his gaze to where his feet would eventually land.

"Want one?" I offered, tilting the box I had towards him.

"I only smoke Blacks," he said.

"Well, you're in luck! That's what I smoke too." He didn't take one, "Hey, dude, I'm just trying to be civil. The least you can do is acknowledge that fact."

"Civil? I didn't know 'civil' and 'annoying' were synonyms."

I laughed and watched as smoke flew from my mouth. This was incredibly frustrating, but that may be reaction he was expecting. I had always taken a liking to people who were reserved; they were like puzzles waiting to be put together. Craig was a new puzzle. We walked in silence for a while with me smoking and him staring off into the distance. I wondered if this was his norm or if his psyche always wandered off into the unknown.

"Don't follow me home." he suddenly said, breaking the silence we shared.

I hadn't even thought about where he was going, I just followed his footsteps. As a natural born leader (well, maybe not naturally born, but I grew into one) it was an odd experience to be following someone.

"It's not safe to walk by yourself," I had forgotten we weren't in San Francisco. My mind seemed to refuse to acknowledge the fact that I had moved from my utopia.

I realized he had stopped walking. I turned around and saw him standing with his right hand pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Dude. Fuck off. Why is that so hard for you to understand? I don't want to meet you, I don't want to talk to you, I don't want a fucking cigarette, I don't want a fucking buddy. So please, for fuck's sake, leave me the hell alone."

"I think you need to broaden your lexicon," was my immediate response. He stared at me, baffled. I thought the next thing I was going to feel was a fist to my face, but instead, I heard him chuckle.

"Look," he eventually said while looking at the sky, "If you leave me alone, I promise not to hurt you if I see you at school. Deal?"

Something about the tone he had hidden behind those words made me think that I should back down from trying to be his friend. Maybe he really, truly didn't want to deal with me, or maybe he was just pissed off about the game and wouldn't admit it. Either way, I flicked my cigarette butt into the street and nodded.

"Deal."

I fell behind him in step and headed back towards the party. I didn't look back and I doubted that he did.


	5. Chapter 5 - Classes

I slammed my car door shut and drew my eyes to the unfamiliar school building I stood in front of. I would have been late had it not been for Kenny charging in my room singing "Time for school!" and throwing a box of cereal along with a carton of milk at me. It hadn't been one of my inimical awakenings, but I was still bitter about having to awake. I quickly got dressed, with Kenny shoving a sugary concoction of Lucky Charms and whole milk into my mouth, and drove to school with Kenny who was rather chipper for such an early hour.

"So," Kenny said, slapping my back and returning me to the present, "Find your homeroom based on your last name, grab your schedule, text it to me, send me nudes, then go to first!"

"Wha-"

"See you at lunch!"

I rolled my eyes. We had only known each other for a total of four days and he treated me like we had been best friends our whole lives. I guess it was better than being alone in a new town and struggling to make friends.

I looked up at the list dictating homerooms and saw that my last name directed me to room 13-201. I assumed the buildings would, hopefully, be labeled. To my luck they were and it only took me three minutes to find the classroom. The teacher was handing out everyone's schedules with a bored expression on her face, I grabbed mine from her and saw that I had all the classes I signed up for back in California. At least that had successfully transferred over the boarders.

I grabbed my phone and took a picture of my schedule and sent it to Kenny. I headed to my first period which was Advanced Placement Calculus 2. I felt my pocket vibrate.

'Nerd.' was the response I received from my only friend. I chuckled and replied 'Sorry, I'm smart. Forgot to warn you.'

I turned into the classroom that housed AP Calc and saw three other kids in the class. I assumed these were all of my classmates, seeing as how I stepped into the classroom right as the late bell rang. I noticed that no one had any sort of familiarity and that comforted me somehow.

"Well, this is a small turnout. But this makes life so much easier," the teacher said while closing the door, "I notice we have a foreigner. Welcome, your name?"

I assumed that she was talking to me, since I was like, you know, new and stuff.

"Tweek Tweak." I replied.

She smiled but seemed uninterested. She immediately went on to explain classroom procedures, rules, blah blah blah, talked about a pre-test that was going to be on Friday, all the normal 'welcome back to school' bullshit. I wasn't paying attention; I was staring out of the window wondering how much longer the year was going to take. I thought about how everyone back in Cali was sleeping in with school a few weeks from returning them to stuffy hallways, smelly lunchrooms and homework. It didn't seem fair to me that they had another three weeks, but then again, my life wasn't very fair at the moment.

The shrill ringing of the bell quickly returned me to Colorado. I slipped out of my desk and coasted to my next couple of classes. The day had dragged on for far too long but I had finally made it to my last class. I looked at my schedule and saw that it was AP Literature. Literature had always been an easy subject of mine, and ending my day with a familiar subject was relieving.

I noticed that each desk was labeled with students' names. I found mine, located at the back right of the classroom, sat down, and placed my head in my hands. A slight migraine tugged at the back of my eyes from lack of sleep. I needed a cigarette, and a nap.

I heard a scuff come from somewhere around me, causing me to tear my palms from my eyes. I saw who it was from and understood why it had been emitted. I groaned and rolled my eyes.

Craig fucking Tucker was assigned to the seat directly ahead of me. Today really wasn't fair.


	6. Chapter 6 - Red Ribbons

Surprisingly, Craig hadn't said a word to me while seated directly ahead of me. He sat down, took our pre-test on the course, and said nothing. I had been seated with a patient façade but was secretly panicking inside my mind. I hadn't known whether or not he would say something or threaten me, but I wasn't expecting a blank slate from him. This silence was more deafening than anything. For some reason Craig had intimidated me enough to cause me to have a mini-freak out. I watched as he slipped out of class when the shrill ringing of the bell filled the hallways. I packed my stuff and rose from my seat, only to follow in his footsteps. I tried to push the worrisome thoughts from my psyche and continued to weave through the hallways of my egregious school.

I tried to calm my thinkings, but was soon met with someone jumping on me. I let out a yelp and realized it was Kenny, not Craig, who had jumped on me.

"Dude," he laughed, "I didn't mean to scare you! I just wanted to walk you to your next class."

I let out a quick breath before I composed myself enough to mutter "I'm leaving now."

"What? Early release?" He looked sad. Not legitimately sad, more of a puppy dog sadness, like he didn't want me to leave him alone.

"Yeah man. So I'm going home to sleep; I'm exhausted. I'll see you later tonight, okay?"

Kenny instantly perked up at the invitation to hangout later, "Yes! Text me when you wake up for your beauty sleep!"

I laughed and headed towards my car, throwing a goodbye over my shoulder. I heard him shout something about Stan but I was distracted by another thing I saw.

He was standing up against my car, back pressed to the passenger door, checking his phone, with his other hand occupying the back of his head. I played it down and thought rationally. If he wanted to mess with me he would have grabbed me after class. If he really hated me, he wouldn't have simply ignored me during class. I tried to reason with myself before I got to my car. I was about to ask why he was at my car before I was cut off by a statement made by him.

"Give me a ride home. Clyde is mad at me."

I raised an eyebrow and put my hand on my hip. I wasn't prepared for him to ask for a favor, let alone to ask it so calmly. He didn't look up from his phone as the time passed while I looked at him. I eventually sassed back at him, "You think I'm just going to give you a ride?"

He looked up from his phone and stared at me. There was that silence again. This time it took on the role of being awkward instead of deafening. He rolled his eyes and sighed, "Please," he had put too much emphasis on this word, causing it to sound more sarcastic than sincere, "Take me home. I don't want to walk ten miles."

I unlocked my car and saw the ghost of a smile play on the edges of his lips. He situated himself inside and quickly returned his focus back to his phone. I threw my backpack into the trunk and returned to the driver's seat. I put the key in the ignition and felt my car spur to life. I could faintly hear music playing in the background as I pulled out of my parking spot and drove towards my neighborhood. I auto-piloted most of the ride. No words were exchanged along the ride. Silence now wore a new outfit; comfort.

"Fuck," Craig whispered, breaking the silence. I was too meditated in my thoughts to acknowledge the distressful tone he spoke. I was deep in thought about how I used to give Alex rides home every single day. After nights sprinkled with fights, after good days, after extremely bad days, no matter the circumstance he sat shotgun and accompanied me. It was strange, having a new character in his spot. It was almost bittersweet to be freed from Alex's grip. While we seemed perfect together, we were also destructive towards each other. Constant fighting, verbal and physical, took a toll on both of us. We seemed to be each other's salvation and hell. We held onto each other for so long that we didn't know what to do if we were separated. Now that we were separated by a couple hundred miles he was constantly trying to contact me. I had been too busy with everything going on around me to sit down and think about him. It was strange not to think about him. He had run through my mind for years and all of a sudden he seemed to have reached the end of the race.

"Hey," Craig said, breaking me from my thoughts, "Are you okay?"

I looked around and saw that I was parked in my driveway and clutching the steering wheel. My knuckles were white from the pressure I was forcing onto the wheel. My nails had nipped at my palms, leaving tiny indents on the skin. I felt angry but quickly erased the feelings. I slouched back into my seat and relaxed a bit. My should had been tight and I was now feeling the ache.

"Um, I guess. Just tired, you know?" I tried to play it off but was unsuccessful. Craig let out a loud breath and opened his door. I watched as he opened my trunk, grabbed my backpack, and headed towards my house. I had a confused expression plastered on my face the whole time. Was Craig being nice? To me?

"Why are you doing this?" I asked as I exited my car. I saw the headlights light up and heard my car make the noise to signify that it was locked.

"I'm going to make sure you stop giving yourself red ribbons."


	7. Chapter 7 - Anecdotes

Craig and I sat on the floor of my room and talked about our scars for over an hour. He had noticed them in the car when I was reminiscing about Alex; my sleeves had slipped down a little too far to reveal the purple and red ribbons that decorated my arms. He called them ribbons because he thought that bodies were gifts that everyone was privileged to have. I asked him what made him feel that way, especially since he himself had cut. He took a while to respond. At first I thought I had offended him or that he didn't want to talk about it. But he finally looked into my soul and tore it apart.

"I walked down a hospital's hallway once. Every room had a patient that had a terminal illness. I did that multiple times a month, mainly whenever I wanted to kill myself. It was a reminder that there were people in the world who wanted to live and couldn't. It was therapeutic for day, a woman called me into her room. She asked me why I was constantly roaming the halls but not visiting anyone. We talked about a lot of things after our first meeting. Whenever I'd visit the halls I would go to her room. She always wished she had lived her younger years more fully. She wished she had told the girl she loved that she loved her. She wished she hadn't lost her virginity to someone she didn't feel deeply about. There was a lot that opened my eyes that came from that woman. The day she died she left me a note telling me not to be sad that she left, but to be happy that she had finally met someone that she genuinely loved."

* * *

I was laying on my spine while surrounded by a sea of cotton and thread stained a deep blue. I was listening to melodies that brought inner peace to me. I stared at my ceiling while rubbing my scars and thinking about Craig's anecdote. After he had told his hospital tale he got up from my floor and departed. I thought he had simply left, but when I went downstairs I found a note on my kitchen table that read "Took some of your cereal. Here's my number. Text me if you need me." followed by his phone number. He hadn't elaborated on why he had harmed himself. I didn't find it an appropriate topic to discuss and he hadn't asked about my story. I wasn't sure if the note was left in anticipation of me asking or if he left it so that he could have someone to talk to.

I turned my phone over endlessly while contemplating texting him. He was a person that only said what needed to be said yet offered a helping hand. I had thought that it was strange how he had opened up to me so much, but I reflected on the people occupying South Park. Everything seemed so picture perfect and unrealistic. Craig had probably never met anyone similar to him nor had he met anyone who could empathize with him but not feel overly sympathetic. He was also a loner; whether his discomfort with himself caused that or if he had purposefully isolated himself was another thing I thought about. He seemed to be the type of person that valued words and used them in such a scarce manner that it also affected his relationships with others. As of now I assumed his only friend was Clyde; when Clyde refused to give him a ride he had no other means of travel and he didn't hang around anyone else earlier at school. Of course I had only observed him for less than a quarter of a day so all these assumptions were based on a very short period of time.

I moved my arms above my face and typed _"Hi."_ on my phone. I had had a message open to send to him for a while but was clueless as to how to start a conversation. I clicked the blue button that sent my pixels to this new friend.

_"How are you?"_

For someone who was so detached from society he had a lot of pent up affection.

_"I'm fine. Today was a surprise."_

_"I've never met anyone that didn't think I was a freak for cutting."_

I stared at my phone. I hadn't ever met anyone that _had_ thought I was a freak for cutting. I guess where I grew up it wasn't too strange for a teen to cut. It was almost a normality, as sad as that is. Everyone was extremely judgmental of self-harm but it was as if no one thought it was a new concept.

_"There's a first for everything, I guess."_

I moved from my bed to my desk to start on homework. I had a bunch of summer assignments I needed to catch up on since I wasn't aware of them. I started around seven in the evening and didn't finish until late into the night. I had all week to do the assignments but I didn't want to stay up thinking about my scars, or Craig, or Alex, or California, or moving, or anything. I used homework as a temporary escape. When I had finished that I cracked open a book I had shoved away on my bookshelf. I felt exhaustion pull at the bottoms of my eyelids and soon it overcame my refusal to rest. I had fallen into a deep slumber before Alex texted me an eighteen page drunken rant.


	8. Chapter 8 - Hurricane Eyes

This had been going on for the past month. Ever since I moved to South Park, Alex and I fought like never before. Between his drunken texts and my passive aggressiveness we clashed. I yelled into the phone as Alex's voice matched mine; he was screaming at me for leaving him, dropping him after everything we've been through, ignoring him, &c.

I barked that I couldn't believe he had the audacity to blame me for moving after I had fought with my parents about it for weeks; I fought with them so I wouldn't have to leave him; I fought with them so I could keep him happy. He couldn't handle my absence, even if it had been for a little over a month. Instead of rationally communicating with me, he yelled at me and blamed me for his separation anxiety. After he hung up on me I chucked my cellular device across the room. I knew that my anxiety was at work right now; I punched my desk and threw my chair over my bed to the same spot my phone had hit. I let out a cry of anger and fell to the floor. I grabbed my hair and sat with my legs tucked underneath myself. I rocked back and forth in an effort to calm down.

I wiped the tears from my cheeks. I took long breaths, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. I didn't know if that breathing exercise actually helped but I did it anyway to try to steady myself. Eventually, I gained my composure and crawled over to my phone. As I was dialing Craig's number to tell him I wasn't going to pick him up for school, he walked in.

I stared at him and watched his unamused eyes scan my room. His expression was blank, as always, and unfazed. He took a while observing my room before finally locking eyes with me. I knew he could tell how I felt without asking. As I opened my mouth to explain he shook his head.

"Don't," he groaned, "Just, don't. Not right now. Let's go get ice cream. Fuck school for today."

He turned out of my room and walked away. Ice cream? All I wanted right now was a punching bag to take my frustrations and fury out onto.

"How did you get into my house?" I shouted at him. I bolted out of my room and found him relaxing on my couch. For some reason his complete lack of worry infuriated me. The fact that he was acting sassy and bored added coal to the fire. He was normally understanding and cared to know what was wrong with me.

"I came in the door," he responded.

"No fucking way!" I shouted at him. His eyebrows flew up to his hairline in shock but the rest of his face remained bored. This was the first time I raised my voice in the short time he had known me; I always played myself as a cool, laid back, relaxed kid that dealt with his problems by himself. Unfortunately, my anxiety had chucked that part of me out the same door Craig had walked through some minutes earlier.

"Calm down." he said in a firm voice.

I punched the wall next to me, breaking a large hole into it. I continued to hit or kick everything around me. Craig sprung up from his seat and grabbed my arms; I tried hitting him as well but he wrestled me to the ground before I could process what was happening. He had pinned my arms above my head and had his knees pressed on my thighs. I squirmed under him and tried to escape, but to no avail. Craig's face was inches from mine; I felt his breath softly slap small sections of my skin. His eyes looked stormy.

"I said," he hissed, "Calm down."

I looked up at him, my eyes wide with fear and anticipation. My stomach had tied itself into a knot, not from fright, but rather from hope. I broke contact with his hurricane eyes to stare at his skinny lips. I had the inclination to lean up and kiss him.

My eyes darted back to his. I hadn't ever thought of Craig in a sexual way before. I had found him attractive but never had I imagine myself doing things with him. I closed my eyes and tried to get the thoughts out of my head.

I felt the grip on my wrists loosen and the weight on my legs lift. Craig had removed himself from being on top of me and stood up. He offered his hand for assistance and I eagerly clutched it. He pulled me from the floor to my feet and quietly asked, "So, how about that ice cream?"


	9. Chapter 9 - Anger

Sorry for the delay, I was slammed with AP work! But I'm back :)

* * *

I watched Tweek as he quickly shoveled creamy vanilla ice cream into his mouth. He was still upset about whatever had happened prior to my arrival to his room; I hadn't asked about what occurred because he was too busy crying during the car ride. He would occasionally hiccup a few words between sobs and sharp breaths, but they were never intelligible nor were they consistent. He eventually calmed down enough to go out in public; he wiped his tears away and got out of his car without a word. We went into the shoppe and he ordered something before we sat down in a booth, facing parallel to each other. The cushions were bright red, contrasting the white of the table and walls. The florescent colours made Tweek seem more pale than he already was.

I stared at his figure as he ate. I rarely had to deal with emotional troubles from my two friends Clyde and Token. Clyde was emotionally impaired and Token was usually in control of his. If any one of us had emotional problems, it was me. I never talked to them about my troubles simply because they didn't understand the concept of empathy, and I was reserved about my personal life most of the time.

"Stop staring at me," Tweek mumbled to the table, "I said stop."

I blinked and realised that he wasn't talking to the table but he was talking to me.

"Not until you overload your system with artificial sugars," I pushed his bowl closer to him.

He rolled his eyes and stuffed another spoonful of his sprinkle covered dairy product onto his tongue. I internally smiled at his effort to please me. My face made no movement except for my eyes darting from his bowl, to his mouth, to his eyes, to his hands, and finally to his wrists. He was frail and damaged from his past and it seemed to be following him. I knew what that was like and I wanted to be a friend that he could rely on, especially since I had never had one in my desperate times.

My thigh vibrated suddenly and I muffled a yelp. I excused myself for the yelp, and from the table, and exited the parlour as I answered my phone.

"Yes, hello," I answered.

"Dude, where the fuck are you?" I heard Clyde fume. Scratch what I had thought earlier, Clyde wasn't emotionally impaired, he was just emotionally limited. He only felt anger, happiness, and annoyance.

"I'm at that little ice cream place with Tweek," I turned around and peaked through the window at Tweek. He was tracing an invisible pattern on the table with a depressed look plastered on his slim face. I knocked on the window to grab his attention; he lifted his head and made eye contact with me. I waved at him and smiled. He seemed shocked and offered a small shake of his hand in return. I chuckled at his startled emotion.

"Why are you laughing? Isn't he the new gay kid? Are you on a date? Why don't you take me on dates, fucker?" Clyde shot his questions at me so quickly that I didn't have time to respond to any of them. I told Clyde I'd take him on a date as soon as he let me fuck him.

"Ew, no thanks dude, my asshole is a one-way street. Anyway, school is stupid today, as always, so we should do something after."

"I can't," I sighed, "Tweek's in a really bad mood so I don't want to leave him by his lonesome."

"You're gay," he elongated the "a" and hung up the phone without a goodbye, which was typical of him.

I slipped my phone back into my skinny jeans' front right pocket and tussled my hair. My fingers dragged along my scalp and down to below my ear; I stretched my back while throwing my arms into the air and letting a large yawn escape my mouth. I shook my head and made my way back into the restaurant that Tweek was currently residing in. I situated myself back into the booth. Tweek's face had a faint pink tint to it. I lifted my eyebrows but decided not to press the matter.

"Why didn't you get ice cream?" Tweek was playing with his hair and curling one chunk of strands around his index finger.

"I'm lactose intolerant," I shrugged, "And I'm not a fan of sugar. It hurts my teeth."

"So...so you can't eat pizza? Or drink soda? Or actually enjoy life?" Tweek was staring at me with his eyes as large as saucers. His eyes were a dark shade of green that were sprinkled with flecks of gold; a ring of black outlined his irises. He resembled a small child that had just found out Santa Claus wasn't a real person.

"Um," I scratched my head. I felt like _I_ was the parent telling their kid that Santa wasn't real. For some reason I felt _bad_ for not liking those things. Guilt was something that I rarely felt, but this kid had injected it into me quicker than any situation had before. "I guess not."

Tweek leaned his head back and groaned. When he brought his head back down his pompadour-styled hair ruffled.

"I would die without pizza," he over exaggerated, "I love pizza so much. If I could eat pizza forever without having a heart attack or getting constipated, I totally would."

I shook my head and smiled; he sounded exactly like Token. I glanced back at Tweek and saw his large eyes staring me down with an intense sadness hidden behind them. I cocked my head to the side and asked what was wrong.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have freaked out on you, I'm sorry. Sometimes, I can't control myself," his voice was so low that I almost missed half of what he was saying.

"It's fine," I nonchalantly replied, "You're no where near as bad as Clyde. He would have broken something before he stopped."

"But that's the thing," Tweek lamented, "I can't control myself. I could get like Clyde, or worse. I get violent when my anxiety heightens. I'm not trying to scare you, I'm just warning you."

I looked at him. He was apprehensive and his hands were trembling. I knew that admitting that he was violent wasn't something he wanted to do or acknowledge. I grabbed his hands and locked my eyes with his.

"I promise," I calmly explained, "No matter how violent you get, or how violent you think you'll get, I'll be here to help you. I'm not scared of a couple bruises."

His eyes softened and his hands steadied. He focused on our intertwined hands and suppressed a smile.

"I think you're the first person to stick around after I admitted that."


	10. Chapter 10 - Blood

(3 months later)

I rushed up to Craig's door, slamming my hand against his doorbell. I was rocking back and forth from excitement; Daniel had texted me saying he was going to visit me over winter break, which was less than two week away. My excitement was through the roof and Craig had to be informed immediately. I rubbed my hands together in hopes of warming them, which was an ineffective attempt, so I cupped them infront of my mouth blowing warm air into them. That was another futile attempt. My eyes watched the red door sharply, but no one seemed to be answering. Snow had gathered on my shoulders and boots; I shivered in my thick coat thinking what could possibly cause Craig to take so long. Just as I was about to ring the doorbell a second time, the door cracked open. A small strawberry-blonde stared at me with the same ultramarine eyes that Craig owned. She looked me over from head to feet a couple times before stepping back. I stepped forward, assuming that she was letting me in.

"Fuck," she sighed before slamming the door in my face. My mouth dropped open and I stared in disbelief. What the fuck was up with Craig's sister? Was that his sister? Was I even at the right house? I thought he lived here, his car was in the driveway. All these questions raced through my mind as I turned to walk off what I had thought to be Craig's porch. I made it a few feet from where I had been standing before I heard the door open again then slam shut. I faced the direction where Craig was and smiled.

"Hey-"

Craig had grabbed onto my collar and forcefully dragged me behind him. He was walking with an angry pace and hadn't greeted me. I almost lost balance but I grasped onto Craig's arm. I ran forward a few steps to get in tune with the rhythm he was at. My hands were clasped around his right forearm. I tugged on him to stop him from choking me, but he kept up his gait. My collar tightened; it started tearing at my frozen skin.

"Dude, what the fuck?" I yelled. I yanked Craig back, which finally got his attention. But Craig wasn't the Craig I knew, this Craig had a fire of rage in his eyes.

"Why," he fumed, "the fuck were you at my house?"

"Why are you acting so weird?!" I spat back at him. He had released me from his grip; I stepped back and rubbed my neck.

He paced back and forth while grabbing his hair. It registered in my mind that he was dressed in no more than a thin t-shirt and some skinny jeans.

"You're going to get hypothermia in these temperatures," I quickly removed my coat and tried to put it on the raven haired boy. He shook it off. Craig stopped pacing and faced me. His cheeks and nose were flushed, his lips had a slight blue tint to them, and his normally tan skin looked as if it had lost an alarming amount of pigment. His ultramarine eyes were locked with mine.

"You're going to get beat up if you come to my house," he furiously murmured.

"What? Why!?" My voice had risen an octave at the threat.

"Because you're a faggot!" Craig screamed, throwing his hands in the air. His hands flew to his mouth and his eyes widened with shock. "I didn't mean to say that."

I was an exact mirror to him. My eyes felt as if they were going to bulge out of my head. I had been called many degrading things before in my life, but none had hit as hard as insult did. I couldn't believe what I had just been victimised to. I dropped my hand from my mouth as anger swelled inside my body. My hands clenched to form fists.

"Tweek," Craig moaned, "I'm so sor-"

Before Craig could finish his apology, my fist made contact with his nose. Blood sprayed from his nostrils onto my hand and down his face. I drew my hand back; the force shot up through my arm, traveling to my shoulder. I could already feel my knuckles swelling from the hit. I cradled my hand while dropping to my knees. I had never hit anyone before. I looked up at Craig; he had removed his shirt and had it balled up infront of his nose. His shirt was soaked in blood, it was even dripping.

"OH MY GOD," I screeched, "We have to get you to the hospital! We can't just stand here in the snow! Craig, you're going to die!" I panicked and jumped to my feet but lost balance and fell onto my hands and knees. My hands landed on ice, causing them to become littered with cuts. Blood flowed from my hands onto the ice. I started to shake and continued to scream. I looked at my hands watching the blood drip onto the pavement. My breathing had increased rapidly. I became light headed from the extra oxygen.

I felt myself being lifted from the ground. Craig had picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. I thrashed around trying to free myself from his firm grasp.

"Fuck, Tweek," he mumbled, "fucking calm down. I'm getting help."

"YOU'RE GOING TO HURT ME!" I hysterically shrieked.

"Have I ever hurt you?" he calmly replied. I immediately stopped moving and stared at the ground. No, Craig had never hurt me intentionally.

"Okay, I'm going to a friend's house. He lives two door down. He will help us, I promise. We'll be okay."

I wrapped my legs around his torso. My stomach was on his shoulder while my legs were wrapped around him right under his armpits. My arms were dangling down his muscular back and my eyes were attached to his ass. I imagined how nice and firm his butt was. Craig would probably be a nice lay, not that I really thought about it. Spending more time with Craig meant increased gay thoughts I had about him.

I wondered if Craig was straight. He had never talked about any girls, he never seemed to flirt with any, and he sure as hell didn't hangout with any. If Craig was with anyone, it was either me or Clyde.

Craig threw me off of him and I slammed into a door, gasping for air. I wasn't prepared for the sudden altitude change, nor was I prepared for the impact. I almost made a comment about his sudden aggressiveness, but was suddenly at a loss for words. Craig was standing infront of me, bare chested, with a bloody nose and sweating from carrying me while walking. I had never studied his body in detail before now. I stared at him; he had a defined v-line that was split in half by a dark happy trail, his lanky body had some slight muscle definition, his skin was an evenly toned light tan with a few cigarette burn marks. I wondered whether he had inflicted that upon himself or if it had been the doings of another.

"Move," he demanded. Whether or not I would have listened didn't matter; he pushed me aside as he placed a key into the door. Craig opened the door and shouted "Ma! I need help!"


	11. Chapter 11 - Medication

"Oh, Lord!" an unfamiliar voice gasped, "Sweetums, getcho frien' 'nd bring him round! Boy, whatchu got yo'self into? 'Nother fight witcho daddy?"

"No, Ma. This is Tweek. He got mad at me, punched me, and he fell on his hands. The ice cut him up pretty badly," Craig spoke rapidly while fidgeted with his hair. He seemed uneasy or hyper, I couldn't tell.

Whomever Craig had been talking to hadn't made an appearance to me, yet. I looked at Craig but he was avoiding eye contact with me. His shirt seemed as if it had been wrapped around a small animal that had been stabbed multiple times.

"Craig, I'm sorry." I whimpered.

"Shut up." he said cooly.

My faced scrunched up in anger. Why was he being so hostile? I thought that he was possibly pissed off about me hitting his nose, but he was fluctuating between anger and helpfulness.

The woman Craig had been talking to walked into the front room where Craig and I were standing. She was a large black woman that was dressed in an outfit that reminded me of a quilt. She pointed to the kitchen and said "Sitcho asses down, y'all gonna give me a heart attack."

I immediately followed Craig into the kitchen and sat in a chair at a small table that was up againt a wall. Craig was still shirtless as he sat down. He leaned against the wall and tilted his head back. I laid my head on the table, I didn't want to see what I had done to his face.

"You got me pretty well," he laughed, "I think you may have broken my nose."

"I'm sorry," I moaned into the table. I moved my head to the right and left, "I didn't mean to. I don't know what got over me, I really don't." I lifted my head and peered at Craig. He was still avoiding my gaze. He stared blankly infront of him at the opposite wall. Any trace of humour had fled his body. He was rigid and continued to twirl strands of his hair.

"Well, I gotchu some clothes to covah yo pretty body," Ma entered the kitchen and threw some clothing at Craig. He caught them and quickly slid them on. The clothing was a bit tight on him but he didn't seem to mind. He brought the end of the shirt to his cheek and rubbed his face with the fabric. The ghost of a smile danced on his lips. I found this side of Craig to be adorable. I could have sat in that seat and watched him rub his face for hours, but Ma broke my admiration.

"Now, let me fix up yo hands," she made her way towards me but I shook my head violently.

"No, fix Craig first! He needs more help!"

"Boy, quitcho playin or imma smack you silly. Ma said she's gon' fix you, so she gon' fix you," she said with a stern tone.

I glanced at Craig for some form of conformation. He finally made eye contact with me and nodded. I returned my sight to Ma and placed my hands on my lap, palms facing her. She tisked and shook her head, "You gon' need gloves 'round here! I hope you learned yo' lesson, sweetums."

I smiled softly. Ma may have been intimidating at first, but I quickly warmed up to her as she was tending to my wounds. I had never had a prominent mother figure in my life since my mom was always working with my dad. If something like this happened with my mom, she would have told me to go to the hospital and have the bill mailed to the house. Having someone take care of me was a nice change of events.

Ma was wrapping my hands in gauze when Craig suddenly stood up. He made his way towards the front door, but Ma swiftly walked where he was headed. She stood in between him and his exit.

"Where you think you goin'?" She said with raised eyebrows.

"I'm going to fight my dad!" Craig yelled back at her. I gawked at Craig's sudden character change. Something was wrong with him but I couldn't pinpoint what was happening.

"No, you ain't," Ma replied, "You best sitcho ass down before you regret it."

"No! I'm stronger than him! I'm better than him! I can take him!" Craig shouted.

"Since when have you been able to beat him? Dat's news ta me! Look boy, you sit down! I seen you all sorts of fucked up by yo' daddy and I know he still got it in him! He ain't changed jus' cause you taller and thicker!" she barked at him.

My brain couldn't process what was happening. Craig's dad beat him, Ma had been around for a while, she personally knew what had happened in the past between the two. I placed my face in my hands and held back tears. Abuse was a sore subject for me and to find out that Craig, one of my best friends here, was a victim, hurt me. A knife had slid through me from my voice box to my intestines. I felt nauseous thinking about Craig's father harming him.

"Look, now you done gone upsetcho frien'," Ma headed back towards me and the kitchen. Craig briskly walked over and swung his chair next to me. He grabbed me and pulled me into a tight hug.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he kept repeating, "I didn't want you to find out this way. I'm sorry."

His constant apologies caused my emotions to fully let loose. I felt warm tears flow, creating rivers that traced my cheeks and jaw line. I sobbed into Craig's chest as he pet my head and ran his fingers through my hair.

"It's okay, I promise. It's not as bad as you think it is."

I continued to cry into Craig's new shirt. No matter how he tried to sooth me, I was still going to be upset. I shook my head in his chest and started hiccuping.

"Y'all are a big bundle of emotions," Ma broke our emotional scene, "Speakin' 'bout emotions, you take yo' meds yet?"

"No," I whined. I knew missing my medication wasn't healthy for me, it caused me to be over emotional and irrational.

"Jesus, you take meds too?" she exclaimed. I realised she hadn't been addressing me when she asked about medicine. I looked up at Craig, but his eyes were closed in concentration.

"Um," he thought out loud, "I don't think so. I haven't slept in a while. What day is it?"

"Saturday," both Ma and I answered.

"Fuck. I've been up since Thursday morning."

"CRAIG," I screamed. I suffered from insomnia myself, and I had been up for an extended period longer than two days, but it still puzzled me that Craig hadn't slept, "You need to sleep! Now! What else haven't you told me!?"

"Calm down," he ordered, "Ma, I take Amoxapine, Halcion, and a small dose of Lithium. You don't happen to have any of that, do you?"

Ma stared up at the ceiling while moving her closed mouth. She stood in thought for about thirty seconds before nodding, "Ya, Halcion was Token's medication for a while, and Bo took lithium before he died. I ain't got no Amoxapine, but lemme check fo' yo' others."

She flew out of the room to wherever she stashed all these medications. I was still clinging to Craig. I let go of him and laid back. I surveyed him before muttering, "You're bipolar."

He tilted his head towards me. Craig locked eyes with me and shrugged, "Surprise."


	12. Chapter 12 - Giants

I watched Craig's chest rise and fall like ocean waves as he slept on one of Ma's couches. He was asleep in a fetal position; his legs were tucked close to his chest while his hands were curled under his pillow. His face was relaxed but his body was as tense as it always was. I had never seen Craig sleep before; he looked innocent without the constant scowl he normally wore.

I was situated in a recliner that I had positioned to face the couch just so I could watch him. I had never seen Craig sleep. In fact, I had never seen Craig do a lot of things that people should normally be doing: eating, reading, studying, and until now, sleeping. He never talked about being tired, studying the night before a test, or being hungry. When he decided to speak around me he usually talked about books or movies; he liked to pull quotes and use them in his every day speech. I loved that about him. He was shockingly geeky; his love for comic books and space shows from the 70's was weird, but it was Craig. But now, Craig was curled up on a weathered couch, quoteless and weirdless. He was doing something normal.

"You skinny, you needa eat," Ma suddenly said causing me to jump in my seat. She had walked into the living room and was standing behind the recliner that currently sat me. I wondered if she had been watching me admire Craig. I hoped she didn't think it was creepy.

I rose from where I was and strode over to the kitchen, seating myself in the chair I had sat in earlier when Ma tended my damaged hands. Ma placed a bowl of soup infront of me along with bread, a cup of black coffee (thank God), a spoon, and an assortment of spices. Her cooking smelled heavenly, and tasted just as great. I eagerly devoured my bowl which was quickly replaced with a new, full one. I was becoming increasingly grateful of the fact that Craig brought me here instead of leaving me in the snow.

I watched as some soup flowed from my spoon back into the container. I brought the cup of coffee to my lips and chugged it. The empty cup soon became an object that I was toying with by spinning it around my index finger as I lost myself in thought. I thought about what Craig had said to me outside, and wondered if he really meant it. Did my sexuality bother him? We had only discussed it once, when I was explaining Alex to him. He didn't seem to mind at the time, but reading emotions off of Craig was like trying to read emotions off of a fucking glass orb. You can see right through it, but you don't really know anything new about it; you can observe the structure but to get to the inside you would have to smash it. I didn't want to smash Craig into tiny pieces, I wanted him to trust me enough to willingly open up to me. He opened up about his scars after I opened up to him about mine. Maybe he would start revealing himself if I started doing it as well. But I had been pretty open with him since he always just sat and listened. I didn't know if he ever tuned me out and too polite to say anything, or if he was genuinely interested. I doubted that it was the latter; I wasn't as interesting as Craig was. I didn't have any weird quirks like he did. I just twitched when I didn't take my medication (which, upon moving here, was frequently) and drank a lot of coffee. If Craig found any of that interesting-

A hard knock at the door caught my attention. I started lifting myself from my seat to answer the door, but Ma told me to stay in my seat. She seemed alert, and I didn't want to push boundaries, so I did as she said. She made her way towards the door and cracked it open. She fully opened the door to reveal Clyde standing outside on her porch. She threw her arms up in the air as Clyde leaned down to hug her. Clyde towered over her, as well as Craig did, but when he was in her arms receiving kisses he seemed childish. His face was scrunched up like a five year old's would be if he was getting a big, wet kiss from his grandmother infront of his friends. Clyde pulled himself back and a smile flashed across his face. He walked inside to get out of the snow, placing his coat on a coat stand and removing his boots, but quickly became distracted by the sleeping Craig. He threw a confused look at Ma, muttering, "Craig? Sleeping?"

Clyde walked over to the couch to examine the snoozing Craig, but quickly changed from curiosity to anger. He looked around, catching my eye, and before I knew it he had me pinned up against the wall.

"What the fuck did you do to him?!" he shouted while drawing his arm back to hit me. I threw my hands infront of my face for protection. Clyde was a large kid and one hit from him would probably destroy my face. Paired to me he looked like a giant that came from a video game. Well, his body did, his face was boyishly handsome.

"I didn't mean to!" I shrieked in response while trying to wiggle out of his grip. I expected to feel his fist collide with my face but Ma hit Clyde before he could harm me. Ma had smacked the back of his head with a wooden spoon. That was something new to me.

Clyde immediately dropped me back into my seat with a look on his face that I couldn't recognize. He spun around to face Ma; she pointed the spoon right infront of his nose and remarked, "I ain't used this on ya in a while, but I sure as hell ain't afraid to start usin' it 'gain! You leave dat boy 'lone, now."

Clyde scuffed, angrily saying how he was sorry while he rubbed the back of his head. He stormed out of the kitchen and threw himself into the lay-Z-boy I was in earlier. The chair was still facing the unconscious teenage boy. Clyde crossed his arms and turned the chair away from us and Craig.

I looked at Ma; she rolled her eyes and sighed, "Dat boy done be da same as always."

I awkwardly chuckled. Clyde's face had reflected the look of a somber nostalgic memory. I guessed that Ma used to discipline Clyde and presumably Craig with a smack by the spoon. I was about to ask how Ma knew the two boys but rustling from the living room distracted me.

Craig's eyes still looked heavy and he tried to rub the sleep out of them, a yawn escaping in the process. He sat up and, looking at Clyde, mumbled, "Why are you in a sour mood, fuck face?"

The large brunette still had his arms folded infront of his chest. He looked like an over-sized kindergartener throwing a temper tantrum. He let out a small, "Ma hit me with the spoon."

Craig's face immediately brightened. He didn't even try suppressing his laughter; he let out an obnoxiously loud laugh while clutching his sides. That was another thing I had never seen Craig do; laugh. This wasn't a small laugh, though. This was a genuine "haha that's so fucking funny I might die" laughter. Craig threw his head back while still laughing.

"Hey!" Clyde exclaimed, jumping to his feet, "Fuck you, dude! I'm going to hurt you!"

Craig also jumped onto his feet and smacked the back of Clyde's large head, "Whatever, bro. That shit is funny as fuck."

Clyde growled, shot himself onto Craig, and tackled him to the ground. Craig and Clyde went at it for a little while before Craig pinned Clyde to the ground. Craig looked at Clyde triumphantly and said "I win."

Clyde groaned and threw the slimmer, dark haired boy off of him. Craig gained his balance and stood on his feet. He offered a hand to Clyde, who rejected it despite the fact that he seemed to be struggling to lift himself. When Clyde was back on his feet, both the boys headed back into the kitchen.

"You probably shouldn't be wrestling with a broken nose," I remarked.

Craig shrugged and said, "It's not broken. It's more than likely a hairline fracture, maybe a couple centimeters. But I'll definitely need x-rays to make sure that's right. I won't need any casting, though."

I stared at Craig, baffled. How did he know that?

Apparently, I thought out loud (or Craig was psychic) because he simply replied, "I've had a lot of broken bones before."

Clyde snorted at this remark. He was infront of the stove with a much larger bowl than what I had been served. He muttered, "Yeah, that stupid fucker. He's going to get it one day."

"Why did you come to my house?" Craig suddenly questioned. I turned my attention away from the feasting giant to the lanky raven. I forgot I had even gone to his house with everything that happened.

"Um," I tried to remember. What had I gone to his house for? Oh, right. "Daniel. Daniel's coming to town in two weeks. I wanted to tell you."

"And you couldn't have texted it to me?"

"Well, sorry, I was just excited and I was already walking around," I said in a frustrated tone. Why was he asking so many questions?

"Why?" Craig questioned. Another fucking question. But this question wasn't like the others; this question had a caring undertone while the others had a more annoyed tone to them.

"I, uh, I don't know. I wanted to be in the cold," I gingerly replied, picking at my hands. The truth was that I wanted to harm myself so I went in the cold to distract my mind. Back home, when I was trying to stop myself from cutting, I would go outside and walk around until the feeling passed. Sometimes, it was ten minutes, other times it was a couple hours. The icy temperatures that Colorado provided helped pass the damaging urge that I had had. My body soon became numb in the snow and started hurting. It was practically the same affect I would have achieved through cutting.

Craig eyed me as if he didn't believe my alibi. I pulled my sleeves down and flashed him my wrists, "I'm clean. I swear."

Clyde choked on his soup and Ma let out a gasp. I instantly tugged on my sleeves to hide my past damage. I had forgotten that cutting was a sore topic in this town.

"God dammit, Tweek," Craig slammed his hand on the table and pulled me out of my chair, "Bye Ma, sorry about that."

Craig harshly dragged me out of the house back into the snowstorm. This was so similar to the scene that had just happened a couple hours back. This time I wasn't going to hurt Craig; I knew what I did was wrong, so I silently obeyed Craig's dominance. He stopped walking and turned towards me.

"You can't do that shit," he almost begged, "You can't. Ma's had a hard time with us cutting, especially after suicide watch."

"What?" I said. I had no idea what he was talking about. I reminded Craig that I didn't grow up with him. He sighed.

"Okay. Is it fine to go to your house? I'll explain there. And I'm pretty sure my nuts are so deep inside me that they're not coming out for a couple of days."

I didn't know how to respond to that statement, so I simply shook my head. Craig started towards my house with me trekking behind him.


	13. Chapter 13 - Crime and Punishment

Craig and I arrived at my house around noon. We retreated to my room; I took off my winter apparel and hung it neatly in my closet. Craig was still not dressed properly for the current weather conditions, but he didn't complain. In fact, he hadn't spoke the whole walk home. He had smoked three cigarettes that were in his pack, but other than that, he didn't do anything besides walk. But now he was in my room, safe from the cold.

As I turned around to face Craig, I saw that he was reaching into my bookcase. I flew infront of it, barring him from my books.

"Don't touch them," I breathed. Craig raised an eyebrow at my possessiveness over some ink and paper. He didn't break eye contact as he grabbed a book from behind my shoulder. I threw my arms at my book, but he simply raised his so that the book was out of my reach.

"Relax," he said, "I love books too. I won't damage it."

I dropped my arms and gave him a death glare. Craig rolled his eyes and opened to a random page. He scanned the page, was unsatisfied, and flipped through the novel. He landed on a page, pressed his finger to a line, and said "Pain and suffering are always inevitable-"

I cut him off. He had picked my favourite line out of the work he was currently holding, "For a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really great men must, I think, have great sadness on Earth."

Craig snapped my book shut and I let out a small squeal of pain. My books were my world; they helped me escape reality and enter a world that I could relate to. Okay, well, maybe I couldn't relate to murdering someone, but I felt as if I could.

"Good," Craig said as he placed _'__Crime and Punishment'_ back exactly where he had picked it up, "Have you read all of these?"

I glanced back at my bookcase and examined every book. I knew I had read them all, most of them I had read multiple times, but I still wanted to look at them. I had seven shelves stuffed full of books that ranged from fantasy to historical fiction. I nodded.

"Excellent, I have as well. You have good taste, but I suggest expanding beyond European classics. Try some books from ancient Asia, or some epics. Maybe even some modern encounters of imperialism," Craig remarked as he walked around my room, examining it. I had never thought Craig to be a reader, let alone an educated reader that had a wide variety of literary knowledge.

"I read to escape," he said without looking at me. He was playing with a rubik's cube that I had on my desk. He continued, "It's relaxing, I guess. At home, my dad beats me. I try to be at home as often as possible to protect my mom and my little sister. I think my dad doesn't hit them because they're girls. He shouldn't hit people because it's wrong, not simply because of their gender. But he's too stupid to understand anything he deems philosophical. That's not even philosophical. That should be common knowledge. He doesn't understand why I read, why I'm so... weird. I know he takes out a lot of his frustrations about being less intellectually inclined than me by hitting me. He's told me before that man survived on strength, not wit. That's bullshit."

Craig finished the rubik's cube. He picked up some of my calculus homework and started working on it.

"You see," he started again, continuing on his rant, "Man had to get where we are now based on wit. Someone invented the wheel. Someone stopped being nomadic and started farming. Someone invented government. People wouldn't be alive without wit. How would we survive without soap? A lot of us would be dead. Smartphones? Forget it, those wouldn't exist. Geniuses helped construct the society we are currently in. My dad doesn't realize this, but he sure as hell realizes that I won't fight back because of my 'philosopical bullshit'," he mocked his dad, "I don't want him to move onto my mom, or worse, my baby sister. I'll take any physical harm over emotional harm. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if they were hurt. So, because of this, I started harming myself. I thought about my dad hurting them and punished myself, even though he's never hurt them physically. I made a vow with myself that the day I turn eighteen I'm gaining custody over my sister. That's what got me through suicide watch. I knew I couldn't kill myself because Ruby would be at the hands of my father without my protection. She's my saving grace. Clyde and Token have helped a lot as well. Clyde's been there to keep us both distracted during the darker times. He would take us to his football and baseball games, even though neither Token nor I are particular fans of sports."

Craig stopped working and pushed himself back from my desk. Some time during his rant he had seated himself.

"Do you have anything else I can mess with?" he asked, glancing around my room.

I pulled out a tool box from under my bed. I walked over to my desk, grabbed a drawing mannequin I had, and ripped it apart.

"Fix it," I demanded while handing him the pieces. He instantly snatched it from my hands and started working on it.

"Token lost his mom to cancer when he was eight and his dad was hit by a drunk driver when he was twelve. All he had left were his grandparents. His family's fortune was placed in a bank, he moved in with his grands, and he wasn't ever the same. I mean, it's understandable. He lost both his parents at such a young age. He grew up quickly. That's why he's in college now. He's graduating with his AA while everyone else is barely scraping by to get their high-school diplomas. I'm proud of him. He's actually doing something with his life, unlike most of this fucking town. I love that kid. He's really helped me and Clyde. Ma, Token's grandmother, was the best parent we could have asked for. She took in all three of us when our lives were going to hell. She was stern, but she reminded us that there was more to life than what this town offered. It got hard when Token and I accidentally took too much of our Ativan. Everyone thought we tried to kill ourselves together. That was hard on Ma and Clyde. Clyde fought some of the staff at the hospital so Token and I would have the same room. He and Ma eventually got us both in the same room somehow. Token came to it first. He recovered quicker. I took a while to come around; I had seizures and threw up a lot. But when I woke up they were all there for me. Clyde hadn't slept for a couple of days and Ma only left to take care of Token's granddad, Bo. Bo had alzheimer's so he didn't visit us. Anyway," Craig scratched his head. He had half of the mannequin fixed.

"Anyway," he continued, "After that scare, Token and I were on suicide watch. We went to an institution and everything. It was about three hours away. It's funny because in that horrid place, Token met his current girlfriend. She's super cool. When we returned, the whole school thought we were freaks. Token couldn't handle it so he went off to college very early. I think he also went to be with his girlfriend. I stayed behind for my mom and sister. I guess I also stayed for Clyde. We occasionally visit him whenever Ma gives us her BMW to borrow."

Craig suddenly stopped talked. He rushed his hands through his hair, scratching his scalp. He sighed, turning his attention away from the now fixed mannequin to me.

"This is the most I've ever said in one sitting."

I smiled. Craig was staring at me intently.

"I bet," I said, "You're a good story teller. Even if you're not finished, thanks for opening up to me."

"I don't like it," Craig crossed his arms over his chest, "It's just... there's something about you that's inviting. I guess it's because you don't constantly judge me or stop me in the middle of my sentences with stupid questions."

"I like to wait until people are done speaking to ask questions."

"Do you have any?"

I twiddled my thumbs. I had a lot of questions. Some of them didn't pertain to this particular conversation. I decided to stray away from any questions I had; I wanted Craig to keep opening up.

"Tell me about your sister. Ruby, was it?" I leaned forward, laying on my stomach with my face propped up in my hands.

"Ruby," he lovingly sighed, "She's my world. She's eight. I love her more than I love books and movies. She's going to be gorgeous when she grows up. She's smart, too. She's already skipped a grade and I think she's going to skip another. Ruby's hard to handle sometimes because she's schizophrenic, but she's an angel. She just doesn't understand what's wrong with her. She has a lot of imaginary friends, which I've figured out are actually voices she hears."

I reminisced about being eight. I had the same problem as Ruby has. I heard voices and I thought they were my friends. As I got older, they became meaner, but I told my parents about them and that's what set off my medication whirlwind. They found out I had a lot of problems that I always thought were normal.

"Actually, speaking of Rubes, I need to go home," Craig looked at my digital clock near my bed, "It's almost lunch time. I need to make sure she's fed."

I rose from my bed as Craig also rose. He started walking out of my room before I told him to wait. I gave him one of my flannels and a heavy jacket.

Craig took them and started down the stairs while I followed behind him. Craig was much taller than me so my flannel and jacket were a bit small, but Craig didn't mention anything about it. He opened my front door and turned to me.

"Um," he sheepishly said, "Thanks. For listening. And the clothes, I'll return them soon."

"It's no big deal," I replied. Craig awkwardly stood in my doorway as we played with the sleeves of my jacket. He cleared his throat and turned away. He walked off of my porch and back towards his house without looking back. I watched him until he turned a corner and was out of my line of vision.


	14. Chapter 14 - Karma

I melted under Craig's touch; any sort of contact between us sent shivers down my spine. He was on top of me, kissing and licking my neck. I moaned at he traced his tongue from my ear down to my collarbone. Craig nipped at my pale skin, causing my breath to hitch. He bit down on my skin and sucked lightly, gradually getting rougher. My fingernails were leaving evidence of our sexual encounter on his back and he loomed over me. I couldn't believe this was happening. I couldn't believe Craig was doing this to me.

I felt Craig's mouth leave my skin. I whined in protest but he seductively said, "Trust me, you'll be fine soon."

Craig kissed down my stomach and tugged at my boxers. I immediately threw my boxers off from around my waist and before I could lay back, he took me into his mouth.

I shot up in my bed, clutching the covers and sheets that surrounded me. My heart was pounding and I was sweating profusely. I removed my covers and groaned at my soiled bed.

That was a dream.

I had a wet dream about Craig. Twelve year olds have wet dreams, not seventeen year olds. This was embarrassing, even to myself. I smacked my hand to my face at the thought of having a sexual dream starring Craig.

I slipped out of my bed and walked over to my bathroom. I cleaned myself up and put on a pair of fresh boxers. I removed my bedsheets and took them downstairs to our laundry room and furiously stuffed them into the washer. I poured soap into the washer, tapped some buttons, and the washer came to life, spitting water and spinning the linens.

As I made my way back upstairs I heard a faint knock at my front door. I stared at the door, confused as to why someone would be at my house at four in the morning. I turned away from the door, thinking that I had made up the noise in my mind, but it happened again, a bit louder this time.

I made my way over and looked through the peep hole. I saw Craig standing on my porch, smoking a cigarette, half turned towards the street and half turned towards my door.

I opened the door and ushered him inside. He flicked his cigarette into the snow and ducked into my front room. I quietly closed the door behind him.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered. I wasn't sure if my parents were home or not, but I didn't want to wake them. It was mainly so they wouldn't be questioning Craig at four AM and so they wouldn't think he was a booty call.

"I got kicked out," he answered in a low tone, "I didn't want to bother Ma with what happened earlier today. Also, nice boxers."

I looked down at myself. All I was sporting was a pair of boxers that were stripped with smiley faces. I ignored that comment. I'm glad I had thrown on boxers before I came downstairs.

"So you need to crash here?"

"That's what I was thinking," Craig said as he removed his coat. My coat, actually.

"Do you have any coats of your own?" I thought aloud. Fuck, that sounded mean.

"Uh, I do. I just thought this one was comfortable." Craig said lamely. He avoided eye contact with me. It seemed that he constantly did that.

"Okay, well, do you want something to eat?" I asked as I walked towards my refrigerator. I was hungry and a midnight snack sounded delicious. I rummaged through my fridge, only finding tupperwear filled with sauces and weird healthy food. I eventually settled on plain pasta.

"No, I'm fine."

"Craig," I said, "I've never seen you eat. Why not?"

Craig bit his lower lip. He thought about his response before finally saying, "I'm just not hungry."

I rolled my eyes, "Don't tell me you're self-conscious about eating."

"No, I'm just not a fucking charity case. I don't need your shit," Craig retortedt.

I peaked around my fridge door and looked at him, confused. I tilted my head to the side and said, "I never thought you were one, dude. I was just offering you food because you're my guest. I was being hospitable."

Craig sat down on my couch, ignoring my offer. I threw my pasta into the microwave. Once the microwave made a ding! to signal that my food was ready, I took it over to Craig. I decided that he needed it more than me.

"Fuck off," he immediately said.

"You're in my house, I'm feeding you, take it," I said, looking directly into his eyes. I didn't want to break eye contact with his beautiful sapphires, but I did to avoid making the situation awkward. Craig sighed and snatched the tupperwear from my hands.

"I need a fork." he said.

"What's the magic word?" I teased.

"Fuck you," he said. I stared at him expectantly. He sighed and muttered, "Please."

"There ya go," I flashed him a smile; Craig responded by chucking a noodle at me.

I giggled as I avoided the flying pasta. I grabbed a fork and made my way back to him. I handed Craig the utensil and before I could make a witty reply about how he needed to say thank you, he started scarfing down on the carbohydrates.

"Woah!" I exclaimed, "Calm down! You're going to vomit or something. Dude, if you're that hungry I can make you more food."

"It's okay," Craig said in between bites, "This should be fine. I'm just fucking starving."

I watched Craig eat the large serving of pasta. I wasn't sure if I was worried that he was binging or if I was impressed that he could eat so much in one sitting. I decided that I was more worried than impressed.

"Are you not fed at home?" I asked as I sat down next to him.

"Don't treat me like a charity-"

"Fucking stop with that bullshit," I said, frustrated, "I don't think you're a charity case! You're my damn friend and I'm just worried about you, dude. That's what friends are supposed to do. Answer my god damn question."

"Fine," Craig angrily replied, "No, I'm usually not fed. If we ever have food, it goes to Ruby. I'm fed at school and by Token's grandmother. There. Happy?"

"Yes."

Craig and I locked eyes. I refused to break eye contact. Craig may be stubborn, but he was no where near as stubborn as I was.

Craig tore his eyes away first. I knew I could out due him. He casually looked around my living room as if he was searching for something to spark a conversation.

"Can I read one of your books?" he suddenly asked.

"Yeah, of course," I said. Craig made his way towards my room. I followed behind him.

I suddenly remembered that my sheets weren't on my bed. My comforter was on the floor, still dirty from my dream.

"Uh, wait!" I exclaimed, tugging on Craig's shirt. Craig looked over his shoulder without slowing his climb.

"What, dude?"

I ducked under his arm and ran up the stairs as fast as my skinny legs could take me. I ran into my room, grabbed my blanket, and stuffed it into my shower. When I exited my bathroom, I saw Craig standing infront of my bookcase with Crime and Punishment in his hands.

"Look," he said without looking up from the book, "I knew you were kinda... strange, but why don't you sleep with sheets?"

I looked at my bed. Fuck. I needed an excuse.

"I, uh, I got really sweaty?" I questioned.

Craig chuckled and shook his head, "Was that seriously the best excuse you could come up with?"

"I swear!"

The taller teen raised his eyebrows and sarcastically said, "Yeah, sure."

I grunted and rolled my eyes. I knew that I wasn't very convincing but I wasn't going to blatantly admit that I had had a sex dream about Craig. I didn't even want to admit it to myself. I guess being sexually deprived for the first time in three years caused my libido to revert back to a twelve year olds.

What Craig did next didn't help my sexual frustrations.

Craig placed the novel he held on my bookcase. He pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it on the floor. Next, he started unbuckling his belt and pulled his pants down. He kicked his pants ontop of his shirt to form a small pile of Craig-clothes. Black Calvin Klein boxer briefs clung to his legs and his private region.

I didn't know what to do. I sat there and stared instead of turning around to give him some privacy. His body was the same as it had been on Ma's porch, except he had a couple new bruises.

I had to be dreaming again. There was no way this just happens to people.

"Stop ogling me, you're making me self-conscious," Craig said.

"What the fuck," I whispered, turning away from him, "You did this on purpose."

Craig reached for the novel and sat on my bed.

Fuck you, I thought, This is fucking bullshit. Fuck you. I want to fuck you.

"Yeah, maybe," he grinned.

Why was he being a tease?

"It's fun."

Shit. I thought out loud again. My face glowed a bright red and burned brighter than a thousand suns. Why was this happening to me?

"I've never had a gay friend. It's funny to watch your reactions," Craig admitted. I flicked him off and stormed out of my bedroom. This wasn't fair. Craig couldn't just get undressed and lay on my bed just to tease me. Straight friends don't do that to their gay friends. Well, unless they're major dicks, like Craig was.

I went downstairs to the kitchen. I sat in a chair that was at our normally abandoned round dinner table. I buried my face in my hands. I was so embarrassed by everything that had happened since I woke up. Whatever bad karma I had was catching up with me currently.

I folded my arms on the table and laid my head down on them. I refused to return to my room. I didn't want to face Craig and his teasing. I tried thinking about how Daniel would never have done something like that, but my mind soon became foggy with drowsiness. The last thing I remembered before I fell asleep was my washer ringing to signal that my sheets were finished washing.


	15. Chapter 15 - Wonder

"Wake up."

The voice that demanded my attention sounded distant, almost foreign. It was inviting but I didn't know from where or from whom it originated. The sound waves formed a perfect pitch to my ears and I wanted more of it.

"Wake up."

This time the voice was recognizable and resonated through my body, sending heat waves all throughout my being. I wanted more of it.

"Wake the fuck up."

I heaved a heavy sigh; my neck and back felt as stiff as a board. My mind was groggy, causing extreme difficulty to follow the demand.

"Tweek," I heard Craig's familiar voice clearly this time as he spoke, "Wake up. Your parents won't leave me alone."

I snapped my neck up and desperately swung my head around trying to find my parents. I couldn't see them, but I knew they would have been harassing Craig, especially if they had found him curled up in my bed. I couldn't imagine what they forms of torture they subjected Craig to; water boarding, electrical shock, interrogation...

I lifted myself from where I had slept the night. I was accompanied by multiple joints making grotesquely loud popping noises as they adjusted to the new position. I threw my arms into the air, effectively stretching my back, let out a drawn out yawn, and started towards the living room. My mom was sitting on the couch that faced the TV and the door; she was clutching a cup of coffee as she smiled at me. Her porcelain-like figure looked as perfect as she always dolled it up to be; her eyeliner was identical on either eye, her lips were a bright, unnatural red, her clothes were ironed so well they looked like she had just picked them up from a seamstress. My mother's pristine image was one of the most important things in her life, right behind my father and right before me.

"Sweetie, you didn't tell me you had a boyfriend!" my mom said while showing her perfect pearls hidden under the lipstick. I flinched at her choice of words. Craig wasn't my boyfriend- he was no where near MY boyfriend. Besides being on the opposite end of me when it came to sexual preference, he also didn't seem to show boyfriend material. I replied by pinching the bridge of my nose and shaking my head at her remark.

"He's not my boyfriend, mom," I groaned, "Just because I have a friend that is a boy doesn't make him my boyfriend."

My mom sighed, "But he's so nice! And much better for you than Alex."

Anyone was better than Alex in her eyes. I could have brought Hitler home and she would have preferred him over Alex. My mother's hatred towards my ex-boyfriend always caused my stomach to tie in angry knots, which rippled the same deep emotion through my slender body. Frustration coursed through my veins at her simple and seemingly innocent sentence. My fists clenched and I ground my teeth together in an attempt to hold my tongue in front of my friend.

Craig's discomfort was apparent even though I wasn't facing him.

"Well," Craig awkwardly said, "It was really nice talking with you Mrs. Tweak, but Tweek and I have plans for the day so it's best that we leave."

I turned to Craig and stared at him. Plans? I had no idea what he was talking about. Had we made plans and I had forgotten? I wouldn't be surprised if that had happened.

My confusion must have reflected in my face because Craig made a 'go-along-with-this' motion. He was trying to help me out of this encounter with my mom. My eyebrows raised as I understood what he was hinting at.

"Right," I hissed, switching my attention from the noirette to the doll, "He's right. We need to go."

"Bye Mrs. Tweak!" Craig said as he grabbed my hand and led me out of my house. I heard my mom shout "Bye sweetie!" in response. I didn't know if she was acknowledging Craig's goodbye or if she was addressing me. I honestly wouldn't have been surprised if it was the first one. It didn't really matter too much.

Long strips of cold air violently licked my face as we walked away from my house. I was confused as to how I wasn't dead from hypothermia; I had fallen asleep with just boxers on and hadn't changed. I looked down at myself and saw that I was adorning black skinny jeans, ankle boots, wool socks, a tanktop, a stripped flannel, and a heavy green jacket. I also had on mittens.

"Did I get dressed earlier?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know?"

I rolled my eyes at Craig's question, "Um, because you were asleep in my fucking room, maybe?"

"Dude, I was out. That's the best I've slept in a while," he said.

Craig had slowed his stride and fell in step with me. He was at least four inches taller than me, making him somewhere between six feet and six two. I noticed that he had switched out the jacket I had given him for another that fit him more comfortably.

"So when is Daniel coming?" he suddenly asked. I had forgotten that my best friend was visiting me. Adrenaline suddenly pumped through my body; my stomach warmed at the thought of having Daniel with me. It was like a piece of California was visiting me.

"The first day of winter break. So, eight days. Next Monday."

Craig nodded but seemed uninterested. He continued to walk by my side remaining silent for a couple of minutes. To anyone else the silence may have been awkward but that's what I liked about Craig. We could just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence.

We walked through my- our- neighborhood for a while. The streets wove in and around eachother in intricate but precise patterns. No cars dared to creep the iced streets in the current light blizzard. Homes were lit on the inside with families safely sheltered from the weather, and they were also decorated with Christmas decorations that caused them to shine through the snowy atmosphere.

Craig broke the silence.

"Do you mind if we get Ruby?"

I shrugged, "Sure, as long as I don't get beat up or insulted at your house."

I guess that had struck a nerve with Craig because he sounded angry when he told me to shut up. I chuckled, which must have annoyed Craig, because he told me to shut up again. But when I looked at him he seemed furious. I worried Craig was legitimately mad, but I shook off the feeling when his face returned to his normal stoic state.

We turned onto his street. His house was the third one on our right. Most of the homes surrounding his were abandoned with aged "For Sale" signs stuck in the frozen lawns. The scene looked like one out of a zombie apocalypse movie. I wondered if Craig was part of a family fighting off the monsters. I remembered that Craig wasn't in some sort of fantasy world; the only monster he fought off, that I knew of, was his father. Maybe, if he considered his mind a monster, he also fought off that one.

Craig and I were on his porch. The porch that he had yanked me from a couple days earlier. I thought about how different the two situations were; before I was excited and happy, now I was worried and a bit scared of what his little red door hid behind it. He fished out his keys from his back pocket; his keychain was decorated with little plastic pieces that were multiple colors. He had five of them.

"Have enough plastic on that thing?" I teased. He shoved the key into the lock and twisted.

"Ruby made them for me," he said without looking at me. He opened the door, stepping inside. I followed quickly behind to escape the harsh weather that stung my eyes as we walked to our destination. Craig's house wasn't anything special; he had two black leather couches, a giant flat screen TV, a small table that was littered with empty beer bottles, and a couple TV trays in front of the two couches. It looked as if a single man lived in the house, not a complete family.

"Sorry for the mess," Craig mumbled. I assured him that it didn't bother me in the slightest, but he didn't reply. I wasn't sure if he ignored my comment or if he hadn't heard me. Either way, he continued deeper into the unfamiliar territory. The taller teen had turned down a dark hallway that had two bedrooms. I guessed that one had to be Craig's and the other belonged to Ruby.

As I was about to ask where his parents slept, I stopped myself. Craig had never mentioned that his mom was around. He talked about her once before, but with no depth. I wondered where she was, if she was even around.

He cracked one of the bedroom's door, peering in. I placed my hands on his traps, leaning on the balls of my feet to try to look beyond his shoulder, but ended up just pressing up against him. A feeling of comfort fell upon me while pressed to him. His body was extremely warm and smelled like lavender.

Craig turned his head my way, pressing his index finger to his lips to signal that I should remain silent, and opened the door. He led the way into the room.

I took in the room that we stepped in. I assumed it was Craig's room. The walls and ceiling were painted a dark blue; he had a glass desk wedged in between his bed and the wall that was parallel. His desk had papers and textbooks strewn across it neighbored by multiple novels stacked in a neat column. He had a closet to my immediate left that had doors that opened accordion style. That's all Craig's room had. It was so small to the point where having him and I in it was a bit cramped.

I saw Craig sit down near the head of his bed; he placed his hands under the covers and pulled out an animal from under the sheets. But it wasn't an animal upon closer inspection. It was a small child with strawberry-blonde hair, light freckles that were sprinkled across her round cheeks, and pink footsie pajamas. It was sucking on it's thumb.

Craig's usual tough and silent demeanor melted away as soon as Ruby was in his arms. His face transformed from hard to caring, almost motherly. Craig's face looked nice without the constant anger that surrounded him. Ruby was Craig's kryptonite. I had never seen anyone love anyone as much as Craig seemed to love his sister. He cooed her awake, casting a dashing smile down upon her as her eyes slowly slid open. Ruby smiled, thumb still in her mouth, and she wiggled out of his arms to hug him around his neck. Craig's long arms wrapped tightly around Ruby's smaller torso. The scene was so cute that I almost fainted.

"Hi," he said softly, "I'm sorry to wake you. I didn't know you were asleep."

"It's completely fine," she answered, sitting down in his lap, "I'm famished. Do we have food?"

I was surprised a nine year old knew the word 'famished', then I remembered how earlier Craig was going on about how smart she was.

"We can get some," Craig replied, "How does a burger sound?"

"Delectable!" she happily said. Ruby hopped off of Craig's lap and attempted to make her way to the closet, but I was in her path. She stared up at me and asked, "Are you... what's his name? Twok? Twink?"

I scuffed at the names she came up with, "The name's Tweek. Nice to meet you."

"Tweek," she scrunched her nose at the foreign word leaving her mouth, "I liked Twink better."

"You can call me Twink if you want," I laughed.

She shrugged her small shoulders, making her way around my legs to her initial destination. She was small for a nine year-old, if anyone had told said she was six I would have believed them. I wondered if Craig was as petite as his sibling at that age, maybe a Tucker growth spurt was in the genes.

The much taller Tucker rose from the bed and stood in front of me as he waited for his sister to change out of her sleep wear. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth when she had finished dressing and resurfaced from the closet.

"Let's go before dad gets home," she said, leading us out of the room.

"Good idea," Craig darkly replied.

I still wondered where his mom was.


	16. Chapter 16 - Colours

"I just don't get how you're friends with him," the blonde lounging across my bed sighed at the thought of my friendship with Craig Tucker.

"He's a total dick," the red head offered his opinion.

"If you look up 'dick' in the dictionary, you find a picture of him," the noirette said.

"Honestly," Kenny snickered, "He probably has a nice dick."

Stan rolled his eyes and threw one of my plush pillows at his friend, "That's disgusting, dude."

Kenny dodged the pillow with ease. He rolled onto his stomach, propped his head on his hands, and looked at me with puppy dog eyes.

"Why don't you love me like you love Craigy-poo?" he whined.

"You guys suck," was my response.

Kyle, sitting in my desk chair with his legs stretched out to reach my bed, kicked Kenny in the side. Kenny let out a grunt and threw a dirty look to Kyle.

"Dude," Kyle said, "Don't interfere with their relationship. We all know they both need to get laid."

Before I could argue, Kenny shouted, "Tweek, if you need to get laid, I'm always here!"

Stan and I both mimicked eachother by grabbing the bridge of our noses and groaning. Kyle laughed at my flushed face. I maneuvered my hand from my nose to my cheek, trying to cover up the sudden rush of blood.

"But really," Kenny asked seriously, "How are you friends with him? He never talks, always looks pissed and sexy, but really, I don't get it."

I thought of my closest friend. While Craig had an extremely rugged, two-dimensional exterior, he was the most genuine and complex person I had ever met. His constant surprises that were hidden much too deep for anyone to easily find were what intrigued me. He was a complexly simple person that never seemed to have all the pieces to fit his puzzle.

"He's a cool guy," I shrugged, "He's actually pretty interesting. He reads a lot and watches a bunch of movies. We mainly talk about that kind of stuff."

While Stan and Kyle bought the boring friendship story, I could tell that Kenny did not. His eyes were pulled tight as he silently interrogated me. I simply shrugged my shoulders at his questioning soul viewers.

"We need to get your brother from soccer practice," Stan said plainly to Kyle. The ladder nodded and raised himself from my chair.

"Are you coming with us or staying?"

The question was directed towards Kenny.

"I'll stay!"

I groaned inside. I knew that since it was just Kenny and I he would bombard me with questions all about Craig.

Kyle and Stan said their goodbyes and exited my room.

Kenny waited until he heard my front door close to ask, "So, have you guys kissed yet?"

"Kenny!" I exclaimed. He rolled over onto his back while keeping eye contact with me.

"I know you want to."

"I know you do. I want to, too. But he doesn't."

The thought of Craig having any sort of romantic interest in anyone seemed unrealistic. Alien. Imaginary. It just wasn't possible.

"I don't know," Kenny said while playing with his hair, "He hasn't shown anyone this much interest since Bebe."

I tilted my head to my right. Craig had never mentioned any interest in anyone, past nor present, especially not a girl. His stoic demeanor always gave off the impression that he could never possibly be romantically involved with anyone.

"You should ask him about her," he nonchalantly suggested, "Maybe he'll tell you all about her."

"Yeah, like I want to hear about how Craig was so in love with a _girl_," I sighed. I knew Craig wasn't gay, but just having the possibility of him liking me kept me at bay. Now that that fantasy was destroyed by the blonde devil sprawled in front of me, I was a bit upset.

"I wouldn't say in _love_, I'd just say they fucked to get rid of sexual frustrations."

"Dude, I'm so gay that the thought of straight sex could turn me off. I don't want to talk about that with the guy I'm mildly in like with."

Kenny let out his perfectly tuned laugh, exposing his perfectly aligned, glistening teeth. Honestly, if Kenny wasn't as much of a whore as he was, and I hadn't found Craig first, I'd probably be infatuated with him instead.

"Really though, ask him about her."

"If it comes up in conversation, I will."

* * *

"Bebe?" Craig immediately perked up at the mention of her name. He had been absently listening to my voice as I talked about Kenny.

"Yeah, Kenny mentioned her," I chose my words carefully, not to give away the fact that I was interrogating him, "I asked him who she was and he told me to ask you."

"Hmm," Craig nodded. I was laying face up on his bed playing with one of his Rubix Cubes as he worked on homework.

I flipped onto my side, propping my cheek onto my bent hand. I watched Craig expectantly. He continued to work for a few minutes before finally sighing and swerving his chair to face me. His brows were hidden under his bangs and he shrugged his shoulders.

"If you have a question, fucking ask."

Before I could even think of something to say, Ruby burst into the room with a horrified look on her face.

"Tweek, hide, my dad is home!"

I looked at Craig as he shot to his feet. He immediately grabbed the collar of my shirt and threw me into his closet. He slammed the accordion doors shut as his dad came bursting into his room.

"What the fuck are you hiding from me, faggot?" his dad boomed. Craig's back was to the closet so I couldn't see his face. He remained unresponsive. I could sense the tension between the two without having to see either of them. I tried to quiet my breathing, to becoming invisible and nonexistant. I hoped that a miracle would happen and that Craig's dad wouldn't check the closet.

I watched as Craig was thrown against the adjacent wall. A grotesque crack caused an eerie vibration to travel across the room. I let out a small yelp at the sound. I quickly covered my mouth with my hands and stopped breathing. Time stood still.

Craig's dad ripped off one of the closet doors and stared straight into my soul. I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my body, but my legs felt like solid blocks of steel. I didn't know what to do. My body was sweating profusely and I was shaking like a leaf. I was an antelope looking straight into the face of a ravenous tiger. The stare down felt as if it was lasting for years.

Animal instinct kicked in at some point, because I launched myself at my enemy.

My shoulder popped loudly at the contact between our two bodies. My head throbbed intensely from head-butting his chest. I felt his massive frame lunge backwards from the force I provided. I caught myself on Craig's arm as I watched his dad's body hit the ground. Craig pulled on my arm, out of his room, out of his hallway, out of his house. We were running faster than I had ever ran before. My head throbbed as Craig lead me somewhere outside.

My head pounded at every footstep; every heart beat sent waves of pain to my shoulder; every breath caused my lungs to feel heavy. I couldn't speak, I could barely think. All I knew was I had to keep hold on Craig's hand and to follow him. Craig knew what he was doing, he would keep me safe.

When we finally stopped sprinting, we both collapsed. I hadn't noticed that Craig had been running with Ruby in his arms. He was on his back with a sobbing Ruby on his chest. He was hugging her tightly, whispering comforting words to her. I could barely understand what he was saying. My eyes were blurry and everything seemed to be moving in a weird, diluted way. My head spun, whether it was from pain, the extreme amount of adrenaline in me, or from exhaustion, I couldn't tell. I tried to lift myself off of the ground but ended up falling forward. I puked.

Colours soon swam in front of me. Blobs of red, blue, brown, gold, and white mixed and mashed. They looked like small jelly people trying to fight eachother, which I thought was hilarious.

An unfamiliar voice whispered, "_Fucking Christ_."

I smiled as I passed out.


	17. Chapter 17 - Faults

When I felt my eyelids slowly peel open, a bright light shone above me. The light caused my eyes to water. I squinted and thought, "_Who the fuck would put this bright ass light in front of me while I'm sleeping?_"

My surroundings slowly came into focus after a few tears slid slowly down my cheeks. I noticed something red was covering half of my vision. I stared at the red for a couple seconds before my brain registered what it was.

They were boobs in a red jacket.

I turned onto my side and threw up all over someone's lap.

"I warned you," a foreign male's voice played against my eardrums.

"Sorry," I mumbled. I wiped my stomach contents off of the person's lap, into a bucket next to their feet.

"It's okay, darling," another foreign voice said. This time it was a female that spoke.

"He's been out for a couple of hours," Ruby's young voice piped up. Finally, a voice I recognized, "Are you sure he's fine?"

My body was sprawled across a couch. I was laying on my side, with my face in the unknown girl's lap. I knew it was her lap because her voice had been right above my right ear. She wore a plaid skirt, white stocking, and black shoes. Her skirt was freshly adorned with my regurgitations.

"He'll be alright," Craig said. My heart sped up when I heard his voice; Craig was near and okay. Knowing that Craig was currently wherever I was brought a bit of ease.

"Don't worry Ruby, I pumped enough drugs into him to help him sleep. He needs sleep to heal."

The person who prescribed me unknown drugs was the foreigner with the deep voice. I tried to open my eyes, but my eyelids were refusing to lift themselves from one another. I guessed that the drugs were having that much of an affect on me.

A warm, small hand found its way onto my scalp. It traveled all through my thick, disheveled blonde strands, dragging it's nails across my epidermis, sending waves of pleasure down my spine. I craned my neck, pressing my scalp deeper into the nails. I purred a bit.

A small giggle escaped my masseuse, "He's like a kitten!"

My eyelids finally decided to part from each other. I glanced around the room. I saw Craig sitting across from me and staring intently. He seemed mad, but I couldn't tell if he was mad or concentrating. He was hunched over with his left thumb under his chin and his hand curled into a ball under his nose. The right side of his face was stained with diluted blood; small tributaries outlined his eye and accentuated his sharp cheek bone. His eyes seemed more sunken than normal; dark circles clung to his bottom eyelids. Craig's face not only showed the physical damage of his earlier fight, but it also showed the emotional damage.

As soon as my eyes caught his, he quickly avoided looking at me. He turned his hurricane eyes towards the ground, as if it had more to offer than me. Craig closed his eyes and massaged his dark circles. I had never seen him this upset after a fight. Granted, I had never been there while he fought his dad, but I had seen him soon afterwards and he was never this distraught. He normally had a pretty cool demeanor and blew off the fights as if they never happened. I made a mental note to talk to him about it later.

"My offer still stands," a black male sitting adjacent to Craig said, "You, Tweek, Clyde. This weekend. My place. Bebe, you can come too."

"No thanks," the female who was currently massaging my head replied, "I really need to spend time with Wendy and Red. They've been bugging me to see them since I got here."

So, this was the infamous Bebe that Kenny vaguely spoke about. I picked myself up from her lap and sat against the back of the couch I was laying across. My head instantly felt light, I grabbed the arm of the sofa to balance myself. My head pounded vigorously. I leaned forward, I thought I was going to vomit but nothing came up.

"Are you okay?" Craig asked quickly. He practically flew from his seat next to me. He squeezed himself between me and Bebe, eyeing me with concern. I nodded my head to signal that I was, indeed, okay. I rested my head against my hand and closed my eyes. The throbbing wasn't as intense, but it was still faintly present.

"I moved too fast or something," I mumbled. I opened my left eye to look at the teen next to me. The expression on his face was a mixture of worry, concern, and sadness. I could see the reflection of an apology in his pupils; I shook my head, communicating that he didn't need to be apologetic.

"This is all my fault," he simply whispered.

"No way, dude," Clyde suddenly said. I hadn't noticed that he was situated on the other side of Bebe, currently squished between her and the left arm of the couch. He removed himself from the piece of furniture and stood in fron of Craig, "Don't fucking do this to yourself. This isn't your fucking fault, it's your dad's. He's a piece of shit and sometimes you can't protect everyone."

"Fuck off, Clyde," the anger in Craig's voice was so deep that it pulled at my gut, "You know as well as I do that I should have known Tweek wasn't safe at my house."

"That not it, man. You shouldn't have to torture yourself over a mistake! Maybe Tweek wasn't safe from your dad, but it's not your fault that-"

Craig suddenly launched himself onto Clyde. Craig let out a snarl as his body made contact with the brunette's. Clyde barely moved; it was almost like he was prepared for the attack. The larger brunette grabbed the noirette's shoulder and slammed him against the ground. I felt my heart jump into my throat watching Clyde beat up Craig. I thought he was going to start wailing on Craig, but he just simply started to chuckle. My face was a perfect representation of the emotion, shock. My brain couldn't process what was going on.

Craig laid on the ground, pissed off. Clyde looked down at him and shrugged.

"I've known you for fifteen years, dude. I know when you're going to pounce."

Craig simply let out a grunt. Fresh blood slowly dripped from the side of his head; the wound that was originally placed there by his dad had broken back open from the impact. A heavy sigh left the teenager that was on the floor.

Neither Bebe nor Token had batted an eye the entire time; Ruby had watched without saying a word. My brows were drawn close as I examined and processed what had happened in front of my eyes. I thought I had a good understanding of the dynamics of friendship, but these people had shown me a whole new side of companionship. I shook my head and sighed at their strange antics.

Craig adjusted himself into a sitting position. He looked at me with shame and said, "Sorry."

Bebe gasped. Her sudden intake of air caused me to jump.

"I didn't know that word was in your vernacular!"

"It's not," Craig cooly replied, "But it's in my vocabulary so you can fuck off."

He threw her the bird as she let out an adorably girlish giggle. Her blonde curls bounced as she swayed back and forth; her nose crunched up when she smiled and her eyes shone. She was beautiful and in that moment I understood why Craig had a past with her.

I wanted to be mad at her for being a perfect human being. I wanted to be mad at her for having a past with Craig. I wanted to feel some sort of resentment towards the blonde, but I knew I couldn't. She had only shown me lovingness in the short time I had known her and I knew deep down that I had no legitimate reason to be mad at her.

My only reason would be that she had had Craig, and I had not.

That's when I realized I was a bit more in like with Craig than I had originally thought.

"Anyway," Clyde said casually, as if nothing had happened, "Token's this weekend. You're not getting out of it. Neither are you."

Clyde offered a small smile when he saw the look of worry plastered on my face. I wasn't worried about going to Token's, but I was rather worried about the fresh blood on Craig's face.

I assumed the other male in the room was Token. It made sense, seeing as how Ma and Craig had mentioned Token before. My critical thinking skills weren't up to par, seeing as how I bashed my head a couple hours prior.

"Hnggg."

"I guess that an 'Okay' from Tweek," Token chuckled.

"I'll go. When can we leave?" Craig asked. He still avoided looking directly into my eyes. I didn't know if he was ashamed because he couldn't protect me, or if he was embarrassed because Clyde threw him to the ground as easily as a doll.

"Wednesday, if you guys take your midterms or whatever early. You guys can stay at my place for a week or however long you want to."

"Are you kidding me?" Clyde nearly shouted from excitement, "Free booze, free food, free drugs, college girls, your mansion...and you _expect_ me to stay for only seven days? Hell no, I'm staying all break, motherfucker."

I rolled my eyes at Clyde's comment. The only valid point he had was the free alcohol, which instantly caught my attention. But I knew that hanging out with Craig and Clyde was already fun, so throwing Token into the mix to complete the trio would only add to our adventures.

Craig nodded and finally made eye contact with me.

"You can't even imagine how great this'll be."

I thought of my historic rager.

My imagination was pretty vast.

"You can't even fathom what I'm imagining," I grinned at him.


	18. Chapter 18 - Gym Fights and Cigarettes

Token shook his head, "No, he's not mad at you. He's mad at himself. He likes you too much to be mad at you."

Token and I were sitting on his grandmother's porch, smoking cigarettes and talking about Craig. This had become our regular routine for the past couple of days. I watched the fumes escape from my mouth and whirl in the cold air. I blew out excess smoke from my nose.

"All he's been doing these past three days is leaving cryptic, one worded sticky notes on my fucking locker," I angrily said, "He's avoided _me_ at every cost."

The black male next to me leaned back againt the wooden porch couch and took a deep drag of his cigarette. He stared off into the distance, blowing out smoke rings and thinking. I liked Token a lot, he was really calm and a good person to talk to. He was a great listener and offered advice that seemed wise beyond his teenage years. I had been coming over every day after school to hangout with him and Ma. I stayed at their place for a couple hours, making sure to leave before Craig arrived with Clyde. I wasn't avoiding him, I just didn't want to start any drama if he came into contact with me.

"He's not doing it spitefully," Token finally responded, "Trust me, Craig isn't a person who wants revenge or holds grudges. He just doesn't really give a fuck about anything besides Ruby, us, and you, apparently."

"What about Bebe?"

Token let out a laugh. I didn't know what he found so humorous, but hearing his laughter brought a smile to my face. I took a puff of my cigarette and shrugged, "What?"

"Craig likes Bebe, but no where near as much as he likes _us_, dude."

"You're saying he's all about bros over hoes?"

Token laughed harder, "No, dude. You're fucking funny."

I rolled my eyes. Token wasn't answering what I needed to know; why would Craig care about me more than Bebe? I could understand why he would care more about Clyde and Token, but did I really have that much of an impact upon Craig's life?

"It's three o'clock," Token said, glancing at his watch. It was a nice watch; it looked expensive and real, not like a shitty knock off brand, "If you want to avoid Craig, you should leave."

"_I'm_ not avoiding him!" I whined, "I just don't know why he's avoiding me!"

"Why don't you ask him?"

"Because, obviously, he doesn't want to see me."

"Maybe he's waiting for you to approach him. Craig's a softie sometimes."

I leaned forward and balanced my elbows on my knees. I held my chin in my hands. I thought about what could possibly happen if I went up to Craig and asked him why he was avoiding me. I couldn't come up with anything dramatic, mainly because Craig would more than likely shrug and not answer why.

"He talks about you a lot," Token broke my concentration. I turned my head towards him. My ears perked up at the information. I looked at him, asking for some sort of elaboration.

"He says how you're really good with Ruby," Token continued, "How you love movies and books. How you're the first person in this god forsaken town that he likes."

I grunted, "Yeah, avoiding me really tells me that he _likes_ me."

"He does."

I sighed loudly. I lifted myself from the wood furniture. I shrugged and said, "Well, I'll talk to him tomorrow. Right now I need to sleep, or try to."

"You guys are so similar," Token said, shaking his head.

"And yet, we really aren't," was my reply. I walked off of Token's porch, towards my car. I slipped in, blasted the heater, and headed home. Maybe I would really sleep, or I'd think about what Token said in depth. Maybe our conversation had something under it all that I wasn't picking up on.

When I got home, I went into my room and slept, not even bothering to think about Token's words.

* * *

I slammed my locker shut. Another one of Craig's dumbass sticky notes was stuck on my locker door. It made me feel like he was mocking me, as if he was just waiting for me to leave one on his locker that he rarely used.

"_See you at 3._" was written across it in his slanted handwriting.

"Like hell you will," I mumbled. I turned on my heel and headed towards the last class of my day: literature. Craig had ditched this class all week. I knew he wasn't ditching school because he was leaving sticky notes for me. He was purposely avoiding this class just to avoid me.

I thought about the first day of school, and how I wished he wasn't assigned to the desk in front of me. How I was actually a bit scared of him. Now, all I wanted was to punch him in his stupid, good looking face. I silently scolded myself for thinking about how attractive he was.

I vigorously wrote an essay on literature surrounding nature. I wanted to write about how stupid Craig fucking Tucker was, but instead I wrote about the natural imagery depicted in Jane Eyre.

I realized that I was acting childish and that Token was right. I needed to find Craig and confront him, especially before we took a two hour car ride to Token's mansion. A two hour car ride already sounded horrible, but having to ride next to Craig in an awkward silence would make it ten times worse.

I handed my essay in and slipped out of class, claiming that I wasn't feeling well and needed to see the nurse. My teacher hadn't even acknowledge me as I left.

I headed down the hallway towards the gym. Every day, prior to the fight with his dad, Craig and I would stand behind the gym and smoke some cigarettes before the ride home. I assumed that he hid in our normal spot to avoid getting caught by administration and so he wouldn't have to deal with the goth kids.

I walked outside. It was snowing lightly. A small blanket of snow covered the stairs that we normally sat on. A small blanket also covered someone sitting on the steps.

"Hey, fucker," I said as I pulled out a cigarette, "Why have you been avoiding me?"

Craig turned his head towards me and I felt the blood leave my face. My stomach dropped to the deepest layer of hell. My heart nearly went into cardiac arrest. The cigarette that I had had in my mouth fell to the ground. I even heard it hit the floor.

Craig's face was torn up. He had cuts all along the right side of his cheek; some where deep while other were shallow. Under his eyes were grotesquely dark purple circles. His eye lids were red and inflamed, as if he had been crying for hours on end. His nose was swollen, along with his lips and his right eyebrow. His face was gaunt, he looked like he hadn't eaten for days.

He rose. He was bitting the inside of his lip while he examined me. I couldn't say anything to him.

"Glad to see you're okay," he rasped. His neck was decorated with three lines of purple that signaled that he had been choked by someone's hand.

"You're glad to see that _I'm_ okay?" I shouted, "What about _you_?!"

Craig shook his head, "I'm fine."

"Fuck you, you're not fucking fine! You look like you've just gotten mugged!"

"Calm down," he rolled his eyes.

"Don't roll your fucking eyes! Is this why you're avoiding me? Because I'd worry? Because I'd care that you're all bruised and battered? Because I'm a good friend?" Anger boiled inside of me. If this was really the reason why he had been avoiding me, he wasn't going to reconcile easily. I clenched my fists in my jacket. I ground my teeth against each other. Adrenaline was flowing through my body. My blood was pumping in my ears and I knew my face was flushed, not only from the anger, but also from the weather.

Craig didn't respond. His mouth was drawn in a perfect line, his nostrils were flared, and he was staring to the right of him. His hands were deep inside his jacket pockets. I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Sorry that I worry and that I care about you," I snapped, "But you can't avoid me and think I'd just be okay with it."

"I never thought that," he said, "Stop putting words into my mouth."

"So, now you suddenly want to talk? Like, you don't want to reply with one worded sticky notes anymore? Wow, fucking thank you, Craig."

Craig tilted his head back and let out a groan, "You're so lucky that I like you."

"If you want to hit me or something, fucking do it!" I shouted. I didn't know where this anger was coming from, but it was taking over me and I couldn't control what I was saying. My words fell out of my mouth before I could process what was coming. I knew my anxiety was kicking in because my breathing had become short and rapid. "You hit Clyde all the time! Why am I any different?!"

With that, Craig threw me against the gym doors. My back collided with the double doors and my breath caught in my throat. The back of my head throbbed from the contact. I closed my eyes out of pain.

Craig came close to me. I prepared for his fist to hit my jaw, or my stomach, or anything that belonged to me. He put his hands on both sides of my face. I prepared for him to smash my head against the doors. I regretted antagonizing him so heavily. I wasn't sure how far Craig would go since I had told him to hit me. My heart was racing and I felt like I was going to throw up. There was too much pressure. I wished I hadn't gone out of my way to find him. I wished I had just waited until we were both calm to talk this over. My heart was pounding so loudly and my chest felt like it was about to cave in. My mind was racing at a million miles an hour. I wanted to disappear. My body was shaking, not from the cold, but from the anticipation of him hurting me.

I felt him press his lips to mine.

My eye shot open. I pulled my lips away from his. I turned my head and vomited.

After I was done emptying my stomach, I took in deep breaths. I was shaking like a leaf. I squatted and tugged at my hair. My mind was still running faster than I could handle. I felt my throat close up. I coughed multiple times. Craig's hand was soon on my back, rubbing me to give some sort of comfort.

"W-what," I stammered, "the _fuck_?"

"I'm sorry," Craig whispered. The hurt in his voice was so apparent that I knew immediately that he thought I was rejecting him.

"_NO_!" I screamed, my head darted up as I looked at him with wide eyes, "No! Sorry! I didn't vomit from the kiss, I vomited because of my anxiety!"

Craig laughed. It was nice hearing him laugh. I hadn't heard his laugh for a week or so.

"No, you idiot. I'm sorry that I got you to the point where you threw up."

"Oh."

Craig continued to rub my back, "How are you feeling now?"

"Confused as fuck," I said bluntly, "I feel like I've discovered I'm gay all over again."

"Hmm," Craig hummed.

"Why did you kiss me?" I asked. I was thrown off my the fact that he had kissed me and hadn't hit me.

"I thought it would calm you down," he replied.

"Oh."

I felt my stomach drop once more. So, he hadn't kiss me because he liked me. He had kissed me to calm me down. I couldn't figure out how that had made sense in his mind, but Craig wasn't a person that showed affection. Maybe he only saw things that were normally perceived as romantic as simple things people did to each other. Maybe that was why he only had sex with Bebe to get rid of his sexual frustrations, like Kenny had said. Maybe that was why he never dated anyone. Maybe that was why he was closed off from the world. Maybe, just maybe, Craig Tucker was so apathetic that he had never learned how to love anyone besides Ruby.

"Yeah," he awkwardly drew out the word. I was still squatting; my legs were cramping up. I picked myself up and rubbed my face with my frozen hands.

"So, I'll see you at Token's later," I said.

"Yeah."

"Okay."

I walked down the stairs towards my car. I was still confused about Craig's actions.


End file.
